


the undiscovered country

by choiminhovevo



Series: together on uncertain terms [1]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Bottom Nick, M/M, Nick Amaro deserves happiness, Rafael Barba deserves happiness, au where Nick gets his life together, coarse language bc the author is untethered and their rage knows no bounds, stuck in isolation? how about a slow burn of a ship that isn't afloat?, yeehaw frottage!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:21:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 45,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23221651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choiminhovevo/pseuds/choiminhovevo
Summary: rafael starts over in california and reconnects with nick
Relationships: Nick Amaro/Rafael Barba
Series: together on uncertain terms [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1669612
Comments: 35
Kudos: 45





	1. it'll be good to see you again

Rafael had not heard from Nick in over three years. To be fair, when he hobbled into Olivia's apartment, fresh out of the hospital and balancing on crutches, he promised to his partner that they'd keep in touch, not Rafael. And if Rafael weren't so damn busy, he'd probably still not try to contact the man. It was for the best, he told himself once, when the presence of Nick was practically erased from the SVU bullpen. After what Nick endured, the last thing he'd need was Rafael inserting himself into the second part of his life. When he left the D.A.'s office and got an offer to be an attorney in California, he let it slip to Olivia when she stopped by while Rafael was packing up his apartment. 

"California? Isn't that where Detective Amaro moved to?" He asked, quite surprised with himself that he allowed himself to remember his former colleague. 

"Not Detective,  _ Sergeant, _ " Olivia corrected.

"What?"

"Sergeant, Amaro." Olivia let the title roll off her tongue, let it make itself a presence in Rafael's almost vacant apartment. It's enough for him to stand up straighter. She revealed that Nick, really determined to get his life back on track, finished his physical therapy, nearly returning to perfect health. Olivia (and with the help of Amanda) tirelessly vouched for Nick's behalf, insisting to the Internal Affairs for LAPD that their former partner would not be a mistake to enlist in their ranks ("punching the hell out of a pedophile actually makes you popular among the police," Olivia added). IAB agreed to a lateral transfer for him, to their Homicide division. Nick made nice with his new partner, went by the book, led by example to his team, and with the approval of his new Lieutenant, along with Olivia's prodding, Nick tried for the sergeant's exam. "He passed with flying colors," Olivia sounded so proud, a smile formed on her face. "I wish I was there to see him be sworn in." A pregnant pause widened the gap between them, so Rafael busied himself with pulling two wine glasses from a moving box and poured them healthy servings of wine. He found himself practically gulping it down. 

"So, since you're moving over there, I think you should get in touch with him."

Rafael scoffed. "We weren't exactly the closest, Liv. I don't think putting the Sergeant out of his way for me would be a good idea."  _ Why would it be _ ? And he insisted that Olivia stop it, even as she whipped out her phone and shot a text. "Don't tell me you're texting him, he's probably knee-deep in casework. I doubt he remembers me."

"I'm going to forward his email address to you," Olivia continued as if she didn't hear him. "He responds to email faster than text."

"What time is it over there— 7:37? Don't put this on him. And it's late, you should get home to Noah." At the mention of her son Olivia finished the rest of her wine and grabbed at her keys.

"Oh, he responded." She flashed her phone. 

Rafael couldn't help himself. "What'd he say?"

"He'd be happy to help you move over here. Nick's always willing to help." As Olivia made her way to leave, she held her hand at the door. "It'll be good to have a familiar face to see, across the country." Olivia left Rafael to dwell that thought the rest of the night.

φ

From: Nick Amaro •  [ amarolapd415@gmail.com ](mailto:amarolapd415@gmail.com)

To: rafael.barba@gmail.com

**Subject:** Long time no see  **Sent Apr 13th**

_ So, sick of the New York winters? Liv never mentioned specifics about you moving, but I don't mind helping. California is overwhelming, even to New Yorkers like us. I know you're capable of taking care of yourself, but if you need anything, just let me know.  _

_ You're going to like it here. _

Regards,

Sergeant Nick Amaro 

LAPD Homicide

From: Rafael Barba •  [ rafael.barba@gmail.com ](mailto:rafael.barba@gmail.com)

To:  [ amarolapd415@gmail.com ](mailto:amarolapd415@gmail.com)

**Subject: RE:** Long time no see  **Sent Apr 14th**

_ Sergeant, good to hear from you. I don't mean to put you out of your way for me. I've decided that I needed a change of scenery, so I'll be offering my services to the good people of Los Angeles. _

_ I appreciate your help, but I think I can find a decent apartment in the area on my lonesome. _

Salud,

Rafael Barba

  
  


From: Nick Amaro • amarolapd415@gmail.com 

To:  [ rafael.barba@gmail.com ](mailto:rafael.barba@gmail.com)

**Subject: RE: RE** : Long time no see  **Sent Apr 14th**

_ Did you take a peek at the real estate market in this area? You can afford it, sure, but it'll raise eyebrows. And when do you start at the office down here? I don't mind helping you get settled in? Tell me when you're flying down and I'll pick you up.  _

Sergeant Nick Amaro 

LAPD Homicide

Rafael ended a follow up interview with the new firm that he would be working with. They reiterated that they were thrilled to have such a lawyer joining their ranks. His phone pinged immediately after the call and he scoffed at the notification. “You’re supposed to be looking for murderers right now, why are you replying so damn fast?” He asked aloud, knowing that Nick couldn’t answer.

From: Rafael Barba •  [ rafael.barba@gmail.com ](mailto:rafael.barba@gmail.com)

To:  [ amarolapd415@gmail.com ](mailto:amarolapd415@gmail.com)

**Subject: RE: RE: RE:** Long time no see  **Sent Apr 14th**

_ Slow day at the office? I’ve been to Los Angeles a few times. I think I can handle the city. If I can make it through New York, I can do the West Coast. _

_ Ve a atrapar a los asesinos _

Rafael Barba

  
  


Rafael hit send and went back to packing. He dawdled at the task, almost considered hiring a packing company, but he needed busy work, and the thought of someone other than himself touching his law books irritated him. It was nearing evening; his mother was going to drop by soon to talk about his impending move and how she was planning to visit him. He knew that Lucia would cluck her tongue and pull his ear when she heard that he still hadn’t put down a deposit for a new apartment (“ _ no es hasta junio, tengo tiempo mamá.” “te perderás una gran vivienda, y estarás atrapado en un lugar desafortunado con azulejos horribles y ningún lugar para que tu madre duerma” _ he’s only known his mother for all his life; he knows how the argument will start). He had a neat pile of all the clothes he decided to part with. California didn’t have severe coldness like New York; he could part with his Irish wool coats. The linen suits and the vibrant-color pocket squares he’ll keep.

It was after his mother arrived, weary but insistent on feeding her son, was puttering around the kitchen that still wasn’t packed up, when Nick answered.

  
  


From: Nick Amaro  •  [ amarolapd415@gmail.com ](mailto:amarolapd415@gmail.com)

To:  [ rafael.barba@gmail.com ](mailto:rafael.barba@gmail.com)

**Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE:** Long time no see  **Sent Apr 14th**

_ Me estoy poniendo al día con el papeleo _

_ Hay una casa en alquiler en mi vecindario. Conozco al dueño Él es agradable; podría ayudarte si te lo pido. _

_ Perdóname abogado, pero nunca te había visto conducir un coche antes… _

  
  


Oh, yeah that would be a snag in Rafael’s plans. New York was connected by subway systems and taxi routes that Rafael knew like the back of his hand; this convenience allowed him to forgo taking driver’s education.

_ I think you’re going to need a car down here _ .

“ _ Mierda _ ,” This wasn’t going to be easy at all. 

“Don’t curse at the dinner table, Rafi,” Lucia tsked.

“You raised a loudmouth know-it-all lawyer, who could find many solutions in an instant-”

“If you prodded him enough,” His mother added. Rafael gave her a look and she put her hands up in surrender.

“But he forgot that he doesn’t know how to drive.” Lucia looked up from her food.

“California is large,  _ mijo _ .”

“Never too late to take driving lessons, no?”

“Yeah, but who would want to teach you anything?”

“Ma…”

“Maybe you just hire a driver. Uber is a thing over there, I’m sure.” Rafael did mental math at the expense of just Uber for a year and he almost lost his appetite. Someone will have to teach him how to drive, and if he’d overcome this hurdle (that makes him blush with childish embarrassment) he’d have to endure the chores of actually buying a car and paying for car insurance and pumping gas. That’s awful. The speed in which his brain went from finances to almost calling the firm and telling them that he couldn’t take them up on their offer gave him whiplash, and he physically reeled in his seat.

“ _ ¿Está todo bien con usted? _ ” Lucia asked. Rafael forgot about the DMV. He ought to faint right there.

  
  
  
φ

Rafael and Nick sent quick emails to each other as Rafael was making his final preparations to move. His apartment was packed up and sold to the newest tenant, and he had packed everything he was willing to ship to his new house that was right on the outskirts of Los Angeles. Nick sent him information on the house that was available, and sent other options for lofts in downtown and beach side condos with prices so high Rafael could feel his mother swatting his head for agreeing to such an outlandish purchase.  _ You can helicopter into downtown if you wanted.  _ Nick was absolutely teasing him and Rafael ought to slug him the moment he landed. 

He'd be renting the house that was four houses down from Nick's. The photos Nick sent were nice; single-story with plenty of natural light, a spare bedroom for Lucia to stay in when she visited, and an hour walk from the beach. The owner, a Korean man named Sugeun, gave Rafael a discounted rate ("you're old friends with Sergeant Amaro? A friend of his is a friend of mine.") and threw in some second-hand furniture for good measure.  _ Friends? Did he slip up and call him his friend? _ Precisely what was Nick up to over there?

It was the night before Rafael was leaving New York. Olivia and the squad carved time out of their busy schedule to have a drink with him at a cop-friendly bar. Amanda had to pass; wanted to spend time with her daughter, but she had Sonny drop off a gift: a comically large coffee cup that made the gang laugh.

"Is this a  _ bird bath _ ? Where did Rollins ever find this?" Through his laughter, Rafael realized that this stalwart gang of detectives was the only group of people he'd considered friends.

"You can find just about anything on the internet, " Sonny had joked. Like a knee-jerk, Rafael had asked them about any cases they had trouble with, and the squad opened up immediately. They claimed that they hated talking shop, but they weren't fooling themselves; the job was infused to their very being.

"Man, Stone cares about getting justice for the victims, but he's just not you, Barba." Odafin clinked his scotch glass at him. "It just isn't the same without you, man."

"Stone is a damn good ADA, my presence will be easily forgotten. "

"Cut the crap, Barba, you'll always be the ADA for me. "

"Getting soft on me, Tutuola?" Rafael couldn't remember ever exchanging more than two questions with the Sergeant. Out of the group, Odafin was still unknown to him. Having him openly admit his laments to Rafael was surprising. Odafin smiled grimly and it warmed Rafael's heart a little. 

Sonny looped an arm around Rafael, jostled his drink. "I'm gonna yammer on the phone with ya about all the law school questions I can think of," he said. "Gonna squeeze you for all the legal advice I can think of."

"My rates are beyond your pay grade, Carisi," Rafael was smiling as he jabbed lightly at the detective's ribs. Olivia watched over their casual squabble with a motherly fondness, choosing to remain quiet.

"You hear from Amaro?" Odafin asked. "You guys are gonna meet up?"

"Well, Amaro helped me find a house down there, and I guess I'll be seeing him tomorrow."

"He's picking you up from the airport?"

"He offered," Rafael shrugged to downplay the creeping flush warming his face. 

"That Amaro is always wanting to help. We're all glad he's back on the force and getting back on track."

"I'm surprised to hear about his promotion. I genuinely thought he threw in the towel," Sonny said. "Wouldn't put it past him if he did, what with his injury and all."

"He admitted to almost giving up," Olivia spoke up. "I had to convince him to not give up, me and Amanda." She swirled the wine in her glass. "Nick had been struggling with this cloud of anger and self-doubt for years, and he tried to ignore it, thought it wasn't a factor to his marriage ending, and second-guessing his skills as a detective. When he hit a hurdle in physical therapy, he called me and I talked him out of quitting. Took several calls for Nick to buckle down and focus on getting better, for his kids, but mainly for himself. Told him to set a goal, and whatever it was, I'd do everything I could to help him. 

"And he did, and then he was the old Nick Amaro again. I'm glad the LAPD gave him the second chance he needed."

"Because he's killing it out there." Sonny cut in. Everyone gave him a look. "You know I meant in a figurative sense."

"It's getting late, and I've got an early flight tomorrow," Rafael grabbed his wallet, threw a couple of twenties on the table. "I appreciate you all for meeting me tonight." He smirked at Odafin's exaggerated noise of disbelief. "Out of all the people I get to hang out in bars with, I'm glad it's you guys."

"Oh  _ Barbaaaaaaa _ ," Sonny slung his weight over Rafael. "These compliments are above you."

"But really, I mean it." Sonny removed himself before eventually leaving after Odafin, claiming he needed to catch up on some legal reading. 

Rafael helped Olivia with her jacket and they walked in amiable silence.

"Nick asked about you, you know," Olivia said as Rafael waved for a taxi.

"What do you mean?"

"When he was getting back on the force, he asked Rollins how you were. Several times, enough to where she said to ask about you himself."

"Why would he do such a thing?" Nick never made any effort to call prior to Rafael's retirement.

"He wouldn't say, I suppose you could ask him yourself tomorrow."

"I think I'll leave that alone." A taxi approached them and Rafael opened the door for Olivia, telling the driver her address. 

"Don't be a stranger, Rafa," Olivia said before she closed the door. "Always keep in contact."

"I will. Take care of yourself, Liv." She put her hand to her heart, and Rafael returned the gesture. The door closed and the taxi drove off, leaving Rafael to walk to his mother's home. When he arrived, Lucia was already asleep. It was past midnight; sleep tightened its clutches behind his eyes. Rafael was thinking of sleeping in his clothes when his phone pinged. It was Nick. The Sergeant was probably ruffling through some file, or dawdling on paperwork. 

From: Nick Amaro  •  [ amarolapd415@gmail.com ](mailto:amarolapd415@gmail.com)

To:  [ rafael.barba@gmail.com ](mailto:rafael.barba@gmail.com)

**[No Subject]** **Sent 12:47 am**

_ It'll be good to see you again.  _


	2. bienvenido a california, rafa

The flight was uneventful, and Rafael couldn't pay attention to his book. First time he got to read for fun and he was distracted by the thought of Nick. He wondered, even after all what Olivia told him, if California was kind to him. Besides the light teasing through emails, Nick never made any attempt to call Rafael, or Skype. Rafael knew that he’s an adult and could extend his courtesy, but never got around to it. Was a little afraid of what a call could open up between them. He supposed they could laugh about it later. When was the last time he saw Nick laugh? Was the sergeant even capable of expressing mirth?

The plane landed, Rafael stepped off, retrieved his luggage, and waited in the Los Angeles heat.

The man was already there. It wasn’t hard to spot Nick; Rafael supposed the man didn’t drastically change his looks. He looked older, a little more worn, leaner, and had a habit of stepping with his left leg with an uncharacteristic stiffness, yet that boyish charm still clung to him, his good looks only got better with age.

“ _ Hola, Rafael _ ,” Nick’s voice sounded soft, unsure. “ _ Ha sido un tiempo _ .”

“Good to see you. It looks like California is doing well for you.” Nick smiled so slightly, the faintest twitch of his lips, that Rafael mistook it for a facial spasm. “You do look rather tired.” He noted that his issued holster was still strapped to his hip, the gun missing.

“Sorry, I just got off work. Finishing up paperwork, also had to oversee the inspection of the equipment.”

“If you’re so tired, you could have just called and asked if I could take an Uber to the place. I don’t mean to put you out of your way.” But Nick just shook his head and grabbed Rafael’s bags as an answer. Rafael followed, the protest dying on his tongue. Nick put the bags in the trunk of a blue Escape. Rafael got in the passenger’s side and Nick climbed beside him, leaning over to open the glove compartment. His arm brushed against Rafael’s stomach and Rafael stiffened.

“Just grabbing my gun.” His tone was an attempt to be soothing, as if talking to a child. "I didn't think you'd like me wearing it while I was picking you up."

Rafael had been around many cops armed to the teeth in dozens of situations; why Amaro would think he wasn't used to that, he didn't know, didn't ask.

They were silent on the ride, the thick silence cut only by the police scanner. "I could turn that off for you, if you want." Nick offered.

"Is it important to have that on?"

"I'm not supposed to be on call, but you know, people are still out there, murdering." Nick shrugged.

"Going the extra mile for the LAPD?"

"Always." Facial spasm masked as a smile returned, Nick shut off the scanner anyway.

The drive was at least an hour to the house; Rafael supposed the silence could be broken.

"Congratulations on your promotion," he said, unsure if he ever said so beforehand. "It took me by surprise, but it's a welcome one." He chanced a look at Nick, who didn’t even spare him a glance.

“Liv said it was just my hard work paying off,” Nick shrugged, and Rafael believed he was truly being humble. “I uh, I just put a lot of focus on my job, crossed my T’s, dotted my I’s, kissed enough ass…”

“Liv said she was incredibly proud; Fin and Carisi too. I assume Rollins is proud, but didn’t hear her say. They wished they could have been there.”

Nick shrugged again, a gentle frown on his face. “It’s okay, you know better than anyone how busy the squad is. It was just a simple swearing in ceremony.” And that was that. Rafael blinked; the old Nick Amaro would have elaborated more, this was something to be proud of, yet the man almost sounds embarrassed to be promoted.

Traffic moved pretty fast, considering the time of day. Nick drove through the back streets, Rafael could see the ocean in the distance.

“So, are you joining the D.A’s office?” Nick asked after a while.

“No, uh, I’m joining a firm. Criminal law, something along that vein.”

“Nothing too big for you.” Nick really knew him so well, despite them not being the closest. “Why aren’t you at the very least not forming your own firm or, running to be a judge?” 

So he didn’t know about the death threats, the trial, how even as the verdict was in his favor and the gang ceased the stalking, they nearly broke Rafael. He almost didn’t want to practice law again. “I just needed to slow down, is all,” he answered. It wasn’t a lie; it wasn't the truth either. “Wanted to work on the other side of the room for once.”

“Well, I don't think I'm one to ask 'dear God what have you done to Rafael Barba to make him go to the defense', like I'm some paragon of virtue.”

“Yeah, your opinion on this matter weighs heavily on my conscience.” Rafael’s sarcasm didn’t translate well in this atmosphere between them. From Nick’s furrowed brow and tense posture in his seat, he was sure he ruined it.

The silence followed was abrupt and lingering and Rafael couldn’t stumble out an apology to soften it. Nick resumed his focus on driving, pointedly not looking at Rafael. The scenery turned residential, near-identical houses lined up in idyllic rows. "This is the neighborhood,” Nick said finally. “This is as close to Beverly Hills and Long Beach as you can get before you start spending an arm and a leg for overrated housing." A few moments, and then Nick pulled up in front of the blue house that Rafael realized oh, this was  _ his house _ now. It made this move really sink in the pit of his stomach. 

"Sugeun told me he left a spare key under a rock," Nick climbed out of the car and Rafael followed suit, heading toward the front door. There was a rock by the doormat that looked too decorative so he picked it up. 

"There's nothing under here." if someone took off with the key — instant flashes of BX9 finding out where he moved made him flinch.

Nick crouched down and reached behind a bush by the window, picked up a rock in one hand, and a brass key in the other.

"How did you know?"

"One of the tips that patrol teaches to kids walking home from school. I told my kids, and while I was helping Sugeun install a security camera, I mentioned that to him."

"Oh," Nick is known to lend a helping hand, so Olivia has told him. He handed Rafael the key and stood aside.

"I'll go get your bags." Nick walked to the car and Rafael stepped inside. It was just like the photos, and he could see someone did a final cursory dusting before he arrived. The style was impersonal and it didn't fit Rafael. He never lived in anything over a thousand square feet; shared walls with other tenants he never made an effort to get to know. The profound vastness of space weighed on him, the silence near deafening; he hardly processed Nick behind him.

Rafael let an undignified pause of silence form between them. "You didn't have to do that."

"I did, so you can live with it." Nick huffed. "I don't think there's wifi or cable, but I think you can get someone to come and set it up real quick. There's a lot of stuff to be done, so I'll leave you to it."

"Thank you," Rafael ignored the gnawing feeling of dread at the thought of being alone right now. 

"If you need anything, you can come over. My house is four houses down; the brownish one."

"You've been a big help, Amaro. You should get some rest." Rafael walked him to the door. 

Nick stared at him, brown eyes so dark that if Rafael didn't know him he would be convinced they were black. His gaze was inscrutable. 

" _ Bienvenido a california, Rafael,"  _ and Nick closed the door behind him. 

φ

Faced with the exhausting task of starting a new life, Rafael did what any sensible person would do: he took a nap. He picked a bedroom and fell on an unmade bed; dignity thrown aside. He supposed he could contact his mother or Olivia or even Sugeun for that matter, but fatigue tingled behind his eyelids. He could call those people later.

When he awoke, dusk was settling in. Rafael grumbled as he surely ruined his sleep schedule. His shirt was wrinkled, and he could do with a shower. His stomach growled. Oh, he hasn't eaten since the plane ride. One stumble to the kitchen and opening the fridge revealed nothing. Rafael could easily Google restaurants that deliver, and he was halfway swiping through selections when he thought of Nick. Did the sergeant eat? It would be polite to offer food to the man helping him to his new house. He was out the door and walking towards his house before he thought twice about it.

He knocked on the door. Was Amaro still asleep? He probably should have called… Rafael didn’t have his new number.

Nick answered the door after a moment, hair still disheveled from sleep. He was out of his work clothes and into comfortable sweats and a faded sports T shirt. Nick gave Rafael the cursory cop stare that made him hyper-aware of his wrinkled state of dress.

“I uh,” shit. “I wanted to thank you for picking me up from the airport by buying you dinner.”

“Oh, I didn’t think to feed you.” Nick opened the door wider. “Come in, dinner's almost done.”

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude…”

“Barba, you’re not, I made too much pasta, you’ll be doing me a favor.”  _ I was craving Thai food _ , Rafael thought. “Come on in.” At Rafael’s hesitation, Nick rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to lock you up in a sex dungeon.”

“I wasn’t-- nevermind,” Rafael sighed and stepped in, nearly tripping on Nick’s work boots.

“Sorry, I’ve been meaning to clean.” Aside from the tangle of shoes at the front, Nick’s place was actually tidy, as if the house was hardly lived in. “Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea, water?”

“Would I be asking too much if I wanted scotch?” Something glinted in Nick’s eyes that Rafael couldn’t place, and a grimace marred his face.

“I…” Nick sounded embarrassed. “I don’t have alcohol in my house.”

“Oh.”

Nick shrugged. “Y’know, with the anger management and IAB getting on my ass for drinking, and I got two kids that visit from time to time…” Rafael was impressed. “I just figured… I haven’t had a drink since I left New York.”

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“No it’s fine. I don’t miss it actually.” Nick blinked rapidly as if to force something within back down. “Coffee, tea, water?”

“Water is fine.”

“Make yourself at home, dinner is almost ready.” Nick’s kitchen connected to the living room where Rafael wandered into, tried not to commit the photos on the mantle to memory. There weren’t many: a couple of photos where he could only guess where from his childhood, Amaro’s official police portrait with the stern cop stare, and photos of what Rafael assumed were —

"Are these your kids?"

Nick looked from underneath the cabinets. "Yeah. That's Gil; he turned fourteen a week ago. And the girl is Zara; she'll be eleven in the fall." He walked over with two glasses of water and handed one to Rafael. A soft yet genuine smile brightened his face. "Gil is in San Diego, but he'll be here next week, along with Zara, who is only a couple neighborhoods away. The kids are pretty good, they actually get along well.

"Food is done. I'm no Gordon Ramsay, but I won't give you food poisoning." Rafael followed him to the kitchen and was instantly assaulted by the aroma.

"That smells fantastic, Amaro."

"Hope it tastes fantastic." Nick dished out two plates. Rafael thanked him, and they both ignored the uncomfortable silence as they ate. Nick’s wallet and badge were on the bar countertop between them, and Rafael couldn’t help himself by picking it up, inspecting it. Nick watched him trace a finger over the word Sergeant.

“This is the ugliest badge I’ve ever seen.”

Nick snorted. “Fuck, I know right? But, it’s just a badge.”

“You should be proud of your promotion. You were a damn good detective back in New York, you work hard. I could totally see that.” Nick shook his head. “You don’t believe so?”

“I don’t know,” Nick took the badge from Rafael’s hand and pocketed it, shame making his fingers fumble. “I don’t know anymore.”

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Why would Nick be ashamed about this? “But your family is proud, the squad is proud. God, Olivia was elated when she told me, and I’m surprised.” Nick shook his head again.

“No one showed up.”

“No one? Not even your kids?”

“They had school. And, I don’t feel like I deserved it.” Rafael blinked. "I… ah, it's stupid."

"It can't be if it's making you feel this way."

"Now that you've said it, it'll sound even more stupid." Nick's flat dark stare wasn't directed at Rafael, yet the man's stomach knotted up. "I don't like it when we talk about me."

"Sorry."

Nick sighed. "Sorry, I don't mean to be curmudgeonly. I haven't seen you in years and it's good to see a familiar face. I kinda figured you'd fill me in with what you've been up to."

Normally Rafael would explain his work, and Nick could follow easily, but he had to agree with him: he no longer liked it when he was talking about himself. Whatever front he meant to put up he was too tired to do so. "I um…. I don't think I want to talk about myself either. " Rafael stabbed his fettuccine. 

Nick's face morphed into fearful curiosity, as if asking  _ what the hell did you do, Barba _ ? Instead, he focused on his food.

"Your fettuccini is great."

"Thank you. Just put ‘chef’ on my business card.” They ate some more, Rafael asked what was good to do around here. “Not Disney stuff.”

“I am the wrong person to ask-- a workaholic Homicide sergeant three years sober with two kids still minors. My thrilling weekend is laying at home watching the game with my leg not acting up, and no one calls me about someone getting murdered.”

“I can’t believe you can still walk on that, to be able to rejoin the force with that injury.”

“They deemed my physical therapy a competent success, and I was lucky he missed my knee. I wouldn’t be on the force again if he shot it. Still, gunshot wounds fucking suck. Pro tip, don’t get shot.” Nick let out an attempt at a laugh, shaky and unsure.

Rafael gulped his water,  _ you almost died, Amaro _ , flushed down with it. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said finally. “I mean, better than before.” They had finished their food, Nick taking the plates and rinsing them off before putting them in the dishwasher.

“Am I though?” Nick asked, so quietly and more to himself that Rafael thought it wasn’t for him to answer.

“Well, I should probably unpack a little, and go back to sleep. Once again, you’ve saved me. I owe you at least two dinners.”

“I’ll cash in when you’re all settled. I want a steak,” Nick joked. He offered Rafael a cup of coffee, to be polite, but Rafael ought to leave and get ready for tomorrow.

“You need help getting to the law office? I think it’s a couple blocks away from the station.”

“I can get there just fine, thank you.” Rafael couldn’t depend on Nick forever.

“How? You can’t drive.” Rafael let out an indignant huff.

“Uber is a thing, remember? I’ll sort this driving situation out when we approach that bridge.” Rafael put on his shoes, thanked his host again, and walked out the door, wondering if he’ll ever have a comfortable conversation with Nick.

φ

Rafael showered, unpacked his suitcases, and read a couple of chapters of his book before he grew tired. He found some sheets in the linen closet and made the bed; there were no comforters, just a couple of hand-knit blankets. Rafael made a mental note to add sheets and blankets to his shopping list. After tossing and turning, he eventually drifted off to sleep at 11:14. He awoke again around 3:30 am. Knowing that he couldn’t go back to sleep (his body was still on New York time; how long it will take until he adjusted he’ll never know), he tried to read the book again, but his mind kept wandering. He wanted to call his mother, and Olivia, but his mother needed all the rest she could get before overseeing a horde of children, and Olivia needed to sleep before she was out chasing perp after perp. This neighborhood is new to him. He supposed it’s safer than what he’s used to, but he’s not going to wander off and waste time. He launched Google maps of the neighborhood and took note of the restaurants nearby — none of them Thai—put in the distance between his house and the new law firm and nixed the idea of walking there.  _ Don’t be an idiot _ ,  _ Raf _ . The only thing of interest was the proximity of the beach. It wasn’t very close; Rafael looked at houses on the beachside once, in an attempt to show off to Amaro, until he saw the prices and thought an hour away would humble him. Plus, he had to admit, living nearby his old colleague was nice; he actually  _ missed _ Amaro, palpable awkward moments aside.

When he first met Amaro, he was leaning against a table by the window in an interview room. His casual demeanor as they were discussing the credibility of a victim intrigued Rafael, though he would never admit it. When Nick cocked his head to the side, slanting his gaze and boring his eyes right into Rafael, something unknown clicked in him that nearly made him drop all professionalism. He astonished himself when he remained at a distance, never going so further than an occasional drink at the bar (always with Olivia) or sharing food in the bullpen (also with the squad). Really, Rafael shouldn’t be even entertaining the idea of forming an interest in Amaro; he’s hot around the collar, pent-up rage that needed to be unleashed elsewhere, and he questioned Rafael’s motives far too often. That combination made him bite the inside of his cheek to stave off the attraction. There was a mystery about Nick Amaro that Rafael didn’t feel comfortable solving back then, and when Nick left, Rafael let the mystery go cold. And it was fine, for three years, out of everyone, Rafael adjusted the quickest. Now here they were, resurfacing, asking if it was okay to come out now. Did you want to learn more about Nick Amaro?  _ No, I don't want to. Go away _ . An hour in the car with him, living four houses down from him, made a girlish flush creep on his face that he was certain would never leave. Was… was Nick trying to bring Rafael into his life? Nick missed him too? Rafael reigned his thoughts in before he got ahead of himself.

Rafael walked into his kitchen—there were mugs and plates in the cupboards, but no coffee, so Rafael got a mug of water and sipped as he paced the house—the sun was making itself known, taking its damn time rising. Rafael hopped in the shower, took his time shaving, and picked out a suit. He wondered if Nick was up, he must be if he had to get to the precinct. It was 7:12, and he was to be at the firm at 9. Google Maps had him only half an hour away, so he had time to kill before leaving. From the window, he saw a glimpse of Amaro's blue Escape driving down the street, turning right before disappearing. Maybe they might get together later tonight or sometime this week, or Rafael might rub elbows with his new colleagues at the firm and carve a life separate from the Sergeant, and maybe they can just stay neighbors. 

When he booted up Uber and scheduled a pickup, his phone buzzed as a text message popped up. It was a 949 number. Not the firm; they would actually call him. Nick?

_ This is my new phone number. This might be easier to communicate than email.  _ Oh you think, Serpico?

_ Thank you. Still surprised you knew my personal number, considering you've never called me before.  _ Nick had only called him directly through the A.D.A extension, with Carmen as a wall between them.

_ Liv gave it to me years ago; never forgot it.  _ Rafael didn't have an answer for that. Either Amaro was texting while driving or he made it to the precinct to get started on solving crimes, Rafael wasn't going to pry. He was going to wait for a black Acura sedan to find his address and take him to work.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they still don't bone in this.
> 
> sorry for the Taco Bell Spanish in this. I speak German


	3. you need help getting home?

The law firm was no grand labyrinth of marble and limestone, no stately wooden trim and frosted glass made a century ago. It was too modern, too sleek, too open and exposed and Rafael would just have to get used to it. If they asked him how he felt about his new workplace, he would have to lie and say it was nice. 

The partners, Bronson Radler & Veronica Gillis, were personally there to greet Rafael and show him his new office. It had no spectacular views of the ocean (just views of a strip mall struggling to stay open) but it was an office at least; he could do a lot worse. At noon, he accompanied Radler & Gillis to the Los Angeles courts, where he was sworn in as a lawyer under the California bar. He remembered when he was some scrawny associate desperate to make a name for himself, his mother and abuela were there to watch be sworn in the Bronx courts. It was just two people in his corner, but he never felt alone. Now, it was just two colleagues he hardly knew, and a disinterested judge who didn't care if Rafael passed twelve state bar exams. Is this how Amaro felt? 

He was given two cases, one disputing a robbery suspect and one assault charge. If Rafael weren't so starved for any legal work to do, he would find the tomes of paperwork and backlog a drain, and given his history, beneath him. But he worked through lunch and at a feverish pace. He sat back after reading through the case logs with satisfaction. And to think, he wanted to stop practicing law.

After consulting with other associates, who he could tell he was far too old to join in on their after-work activities, Rafael hailed another Uber back home. When he got home, he ordered enough takeout from several places, so much so he got an alert from his banking app asking if he truly spent $58 on noodles. While he waited for the food, he sent a text to Olivia and his mother, who were probably home and winding down; the last thing they needed was him disrupting their quiet night with a phone call. His food arrived, and he ate ravenously; he only had a bagel at the court waiting room.

After doing some online ordering for blankets and a new bookcase, Rafael looked up the local news. Los Angeles problems sounded a lot like New York problems, only with more celebrities and no snow. There was an article that piqued Rafael's attention though: two Homicide detectives receiving praise from the Laguna Beach community for solving a double murder from a decade ago. It was a gruesome killing; a teenage boy and his younger cousin murdered and no one had any leads to go on. This cold case had cast a dark shadow on the bright and easygoing community of Laguna, but new leads and a fresh pair of eyes reopened the case, and after new DNA evidence emerged, they were able to find a new suspect, who eventually confessed. The article praised the steadfast and thorough work of Sergeant Nick Amaro and Detective Cristina Kimura, and below showed photos of the two victims ( _ Christ _ , Rafael thought.  _ They looked so young _ ), the mugshot of the suspect, and underneath, a photo of Amaro and Kimura sitting down talking with the appointed LAPD reporter. There was a guarded look on Kimura’s face, as she didn’t want to show her elation for solving a major case. Amaro looked bored, or ashamed of the spotlight, but the photo wasn’t large enough for Rafael to determine. It was late, so he closed the webpage down and cleaned up his takeout mess. There was only a depleted roll of garbage bags underneath the kitchen sink; Rafael sighed at his ever-growing grocery list. After showering and dressing for bed, he sent a text to Nick:  _ saw the article about you and your detective solving that murder. That was damn good work _ . Rafael wasn’t expecting a reply, so he turned off the lights and tried to go to sleep. Just as he felt the sleep fall heavy on his eyelids, his phone buzzed.

_ Thanks Counselor, it means a lot. _

  
  


φ

  
  


God, Rafael needed to get a life. Aside from glimpses of the beach when he walked to his office, Rafael wasn’t able to visit it. His workload only increased, and never had any casual conversation with anyone. Even his rare calls to Olivia, who only seemed to be busier than him, their conversations only seemed to revolve around work and victims. She asked about Nick, and Rafael really hadn’t been talking to him. Nick had the Homicide division to talk to, and cases to solve, and a family to connect to. Where did Rafael fit into all of that? And Rafael had… walks to the court house? Working for the defense? He was already building a reputation for being a hard-ass and ruthless, tearing the prosecution to pieces with the finesse of a butcher. It chilled him to think how quick he fell into a rhythm he thought he grew out of. What was he trying to prove here?

He had not been in contact with Nick for over a week. From what he heard from the news, there were a number of shootings outside of Englewood and parts of Calabasas. He wasn't sure of the magnitude of the LAPD's jurisdiction but he was certain these murders were keeping Amaro busy.

But Amaro had knocked on his door one Wednesday evening, where Rafael was finishing up on paperwork and wondering if he was going to order in again. His mother finally sent the rest of his boxes; maybe he'll get around to making a home-cooked meal for once?

Amaro seemed to have changed out of his work clothes quickly, giving Rafael’s still-in-a-suit-but-the-tie-is-loosened ensemble a confused look.

“Hello?” Rafael reflexively smoothed his hair. “May I help you?”

“Are you going somewhere? Do you have  _ any _ casual clothing?”

Wasn’t expecting that to come out of Amaro’s mouth. “I— Well, you know me, my sleepwear is a three-piece suit.”

“Ah, I called it. I was going to ask if you wanted to come over. Knowing you, you probably haven’t been anywhere except work.”

“You  _ spying _ on me, Sergeant?”

“Just looking out. Liv asked to keep an eye on you.” Nick lifted his hand; he was holding a bottle of scotch.

“I thought you didn’t drink…”

“I don’t, it’s a really belated ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ gift. I don’t know if it’s a good brand, but,” Nick practically shoved the bottle in Rafael’s hands, who almost dropped it. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

“ _ Gracias _ ,” Rafael inspected the bottle; it was actually a decent brand. “I’d invite you in to crack it open but, you don’t drink.”

“I gotta head back anyway. Maria is dropping off Zara, so I’m making dinner for the kids.”

“Kids, as in, both of them?”

“Yeah, Gil came a couple of days ago. He’s been cooped up in the house playing video games. I was offering to invite you over for dinner again; this time with children.”

“I appreciate it, but would it be awkward? And I’d be butting into your quality time with the kids.”

“Nah, you won’t. If I thought you’d be a bother, I wouldn’t have walked over here. These knuckleheads need another chaperone.”  _ Are the knuckleheads your children or us _ ? If Rafael declined, he’d have another night of takeout and idly scrolling through his phone in silence.

“Ah, damn it, fine. I’ll come over. Let me get changed first.” Would Amaro walk back over or should Rafael invite him into the barren landscape that was his house? But Nick side-stepped inside and shut the door as an answer. Rafael had to restart his brain in order to move. His eyes darted around frantically: did he have overflowing takeout trash, any unwashed dishes in the sink? Aside from the pile of documents on the kitchen bar, and his boxes still in the sitting room, there was nothing out of place, because there was nothing there still. The bookcases he ordered were left unbuilt, only one box opened to find a book. With Nick standing in his kitchen, looking around at the nothingness, Rafael couldn’t help but feel shame. He coughed to puncture the silence.

“Um…”

“Perhaps I should have brought over groceries, or something,” Nick said, looking at all the stark emptiness of the sitting room. “You only have a  _ loveseat _ ? Did a cop furnish the place?”

“God, that was mean. You should have felt that burn.” Rafael went to his bedroom; Nick had the decency not to follow, but craned his neck to see his bedroom through the doorway.  _ Jokes on you, tonto, there’s nothing to see here _ . Rafael changed quickly in his closet, hanging his suit up. Once he felt he was casual enough, he emerged from his room. Nick raked his eyes over Rafael’s body, something akin to hunger in his gaze. Rafael decided to not comment on it. “What’s for dinner, Sarge?”

“The kids want pizza, so I’m making it. California pizza is-  _ fine _ , but compared to New York style pizza? Gross, disgusting. Filth in your mouth. If any of your colleagues orders pizza for lunch and offers it to you, slap that shit out of their hands.” Rafael snorted as they left the house, scotch in his hands, walking towards Nick’s house. The sky was fading into darkness, inky smears of indigo fading the turquoise. A gentle breeze alleviated the summer heat; it was welcome. Nick looked a bit tired, but content.

“So,” Rafael thought to give this small talk another go. “Did you have a nice day at work?”

“I mean, no calls about murders or shootings, so I guess it was a good day. The Lieutenant and I were going over Compstat numbers to present to the Deputies, caught up on paperwork, talked to Liv for a bit— she’s busy.” There was an unknown car in Nick’s driveway. “Oh, Maria’s already here. Thought she’d be late.”

“Maria is your…” Rafael knew the answer, but was unsure to confirm it.

“Ex. My fault. Our—no, my fault. I burned that bridge.” The clenching of Nick’s jaw was proof enough that Rafael shouldn’t have pried. “We’re good now. Got a good system going raising Zara. She’s warmed up to Gil quickly.” Nick opened the door to his house, and was instantly thrown to the floor by a body launching into his unsuspecting arms. Nick made an undignified yelp as he nearly tumbled into the grass.

“Zara!” A voice called from the house. Rafael saw a woman dressed in a military uniform. From the bars on her collar, she was a Captain. “Don’t tackle your father!” She saw Rafael, stood up straighter. “Hello, who are you?”

“Daddy!” Zara’s hug tightened around her father, who was beaming. Rafael had never seen Nick look so content, planting light kisses into her hair. If this were New York, and Rafael was still the ADA and Nick was still in SVU, he’d poke fun at this with the squad to cope with the sight that is permanently branded in his memory. He’d have to joke to mask the glaring attraction to Nick’s smile.

“ _ Mi princesa! Te he extrañado mucho _ . Say hello to my guest.” They moved indoors and Rafael got a good look at Zara, whose brows and jawline she got from her father.

“Hi,” Rafael offered. “I’m Rafael Barba. I used to work with your dad in New York.”

“Hi, I’m Zara. That’s my mom over there. My brother’s in the bathroom.”

“Cool?” What does one do with that information?

The Captain, known as Zara’s mother, extended her hand. Rafael shook it, a little ashamed that his handshake was weak compared to hers.

“This is Captain Maria Grazie,” Nick introduced. “Maria, this is my friend Rafael, he moved to California a few weeks ago.” There he goes with that  _ friend _ nonsense again.

“Friends with this guy? Are you feeling okay?” He could see why Nick would marry her. “Nice to meet you.” Rafael felt like a third wheel as Nick and Maria caught up and Zara wormed her way under Nick’s embrace, who pulled her closer. It would be rude to interject; he had no say in this conversation, which seemed to be about their daughter.

“She’s constantly growing. Her pants are too short for her legs. I left some money to take her clothes shopping.”

“You didn’t have to do that, I can afford to take her shopping…”

“You can take her back-to-school shopping,” Maria offered, and Nick just shrugged.

“Can’t I just wear shorts like some islander?” Zara interjected, causing Nick to giggle. Hearing him make these noises almost made Rafael short-circuit.

“Okay, I’ll leave you to dinner. I’ve got to remove this uniform.” Maria made her way to the door.

“Can’t stay for dinner? There’ll be plenty.” Zara went to the living room, changing the sports channel to cartoons.

“I wish, but I've had a long day. I just want to rest.”

"You want to sit down for just a minute? I understand if you want to just sit.”

But Maria shook her head. “I’ll take a raincheck. Bye, Zara.” She called, and gave Nick a small hug. “Good to meet you, Mr. Barba.” She left, and Nick led Rafael back into his house. It was more lived in, evidence of used glasses on the counter, Zara curled up on the couch, her backpack tossed carelessly to the floor, and a gangly doppelganger of Nick who Rafael assumed was Gil emerging from a room.

“How long were you in the bathroom?” Nick asked, loose and comfortable now that he's surrounded by his children. 

"You missed a sweet tackle I gave Dad," Zara announced from the couch.  _ The whiplash this conversation is giving me, _ Rafael thought. 

Gil, sagely even at fourteen, disregarded the charged excited energy from Nick and Zara and noticed Rafael. "Hello," he said softly. "Who are you?" And Rafael got a crash course in the behaviors of Nick's children, how they were chaotic but would still listen to their father as he asked them to help him with dinner. He knew Nick said that he wasn't intruding, but the idyllic scene of the kids negotiating pizza toppings as they help Nick make dinner felt like an invasion of privacy. He didn't belong here. 

"Can we put mushrooms on it?" Zara asked.

"Mushrooms are terrible," Gil objected. "Cheese is the only valid topping and I stand by that."

"How about half?" Nick offered diplomatically. "Zara would you be willing to do that?"

"Do you like mushrooms Mr. Barba?" Zara asked, remembering her father's guest. Startled, Rafael stumbled and said he did.

"So I'm stuck all alone on this mushroom-hating island?" Gil asked no one. 

"You'll grow to love them." Nick said simply, and the friendly banter continued. Both children never failed to try and bring Rafael into their conversation, which kept changing from topic to topic.

"Are you a cop like my dad?" Zara asked. 

"No, I'm a lawyer."

"So I can't ask what it's like to kill a man?"

Rafael nearly dropped the glass of scotch he was nursing. He guarded his expression to mask how that almost broke him in the kitchen. 

"Zara, we do not ask that." Nick sounded hurt.

"I would suppose it's an awful feeling," Rafael found his voice, it felt like he swallowed aquarium gravel. "Being left with no choice but to take someone's life." They all looked at him. "I hope I never have to go through such a horrid decision." He chanced a look at Nick, whose gaze was a conflict of emotions.

“I’m no expert on reading rooms,” Gil piped up, “but I think you just created a buzzkill, Z.”

“Mom and Dad always wanted us to have more mature conversations…” Zara grumbled, Rafael put his hands up to soften the blow.

“It’s okay, I just wasn’t expecting where this conversation was headed.” And the topic changed wildly again, with Gil telling them about an upcoming video game that released a demo and he was excited to play it. He and Zara went back to the living room to watch more cartoons. Nick led Rafael to the sliding glass door and they sat outside while they waited for the food, Rafael pouring more of the scotch and Nick sipping tea.

“Your kids are pretty nice," Rafael said.

"Thanks, I think so too." The bulb for the porchlight was dying, but Nick's grin was still illuminated. "Sorry about that mess."

Rafael shrugged. "She's raised by two armed parents at all times, it was bound to be asked one day."

"So, have you been anywhere else besides the office and the courthouse?"

"I wish. I find that the paralegals and the attorneys at the firm have tastes far too juvenile for me, so I don't spend time with them. And I don't know how to spend time by myself aside from working."

"So this-?" Nick waved his cup to the sight of his children now taking turns walking to the kitchen and checking the progression of dinner.

"This is the most fun I've had since I've moved." Rafael admitted. It was a bit startling, but he spent time with Olivia and her son before, and he was at that age where it would be common to share time with the kids of his colleagues. He wondered if Nick was putting on a show for him, considering the last time his kids were the subject of conversation was when he found out that he impregnated someone undercover. After that, discussions on Nick's parenting were only between himself and Olivia. He figured there would be tension between them, like there was tension in his childhood, but to his delight Nick genuinely loved and cared for his kids; gave them autonomy and a space to express themselves.

"Always available to provide entertainment." Nick leaned back in his chair like an old man, sipping his tea. He glanced at Rafael filling his glass of scotch for the third time. "Careful now, else you're gonna need a designated driver to get you home."

"You offering to drive me home, Sergeant?"

"When's the last time you've said my name?" Nick asked softly, almost whispering, yet his stare cut into Rafael like shrapnel. "I don't remember."

Rafael didn't have an answer for that. By either calling him Sergeant or just Amaro, it maintained a distance between them that frankly was a lost cause. Amaro was constantly on his mind, not a primary focus, but enough to where he was reminded of his needless attraction to him that swelled inside himself. Sergeant or Amaro was a reminder that he was just a colleague. It was better this way. 

"I'm a cop at the precinct, Amaro when I'm on the case and you need to get my attention, but," the glow of the living room cast softness in Nick's dark eyes, making him look vulnerable. "At home, I'm just Nick. I'm just a guy, who wants to feel human. I'm just Nick here, among family and friends." He shifted in his seat, looking wounded. "We  _ are _ friends, Rafael."

It took him a while, but Rafael softly smiled. "Yeah," he said softly. "I suppose we are."

Nick smiled, something genuine and surprising, that Rafael stared at the sight, committing it to memory.  _ Ah shit _ , he thought.  _ I'm fucking smitten.  _

"I'm glad," Nick murmured. "I hoped we could start fresh." Their hands were so close, if Rafael twitched his fingers, they'd brush against Nick's, sparking something from within and feeding the wildfire threatening to consume. 

The sliding door opened, and Nick moved his hand to support his tea mug.

"Food is done," Zara announced. "Gil and I are going to eat it all if you guys don't come quick."

"We better get some, because these two yahoos  _ will  _ actually do that." Nick stood up and they followed Zara inside, and they squabbled over slices of pizza. There wasn’t much, and the kids practically inhaled most of the food, leaving Nick to make another one. With alcohol loosening his limbs and surrounded by animated people, Rafael never felt so relaxed since he moved here. Zara cracked a joke that made Nick actually  _ laugh _ , something deep and rumbling that made Rafael look away before he got too flustered. After polishing off two pizzas, and a quarter of the scotch gone, Rafael thanked his hosts and got ready to go home.

“Oh wait,” Zara seemed to remember something. “This is the Mr. Barba you were telling us about?”

Rafael looked up from his shoes, took in Nick’s eyebrows disappearing into his hairline. “Oh?” The curiosity bled into his voice, practically drenched in that one word.

“Talking about me?” He asked as Nick shooed Zara away.

“Telling tall tales about you,” Nick said breezily, nonchalant, but Rafael could tell he was lying. “Told them you remanded a dozen New York Santas for the hell of it, that you eat glass when no one is looking, other nonsense. What? It’s entertaining.” He added to Rafael's bewildered expression.

“Alright, I’ve got to look over some briefings. It’s been a minute since I’ve done that drunk.”

“You need help getting home?” Nick literally looked like he was going to carry Rafael home.

“Nick, I’m only four houses down, I should be fine. Thank you for inviting me over. I,” he let out a heavy breath. “I needed this.”

Nick chuckled. “Now you owe me  _ three _ steak dinners,” he joked.

Rafael laughed softly. “Yeah, I do. When I get my place set up, maybe you could come over for once?” He tried to ignore his heart pounding against his ribs in case of rejection.

But Nick smiled again and said he would like that a lot.

When Rafael walked home, the darkness cut by the bright streetlamp, he could only think of the shape of Nick’s grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like the show made Maria and Nick's relationship one-sided. Sure the love fell out, but they have a kid together who they equally love, and I feel like Maria wouldn't be the kind of person who would shun Nick's other kid. She's a capable human being who went to therapy and started opening up to Nick and they began to be friends again. When Nick gets to see Zara, the stress and terrors of the job melt away and he gets to connect with her and Gil.
> 
> also, Rafael and Nick still don't bone.


	4. now, is that such a bad thing?

Φ

Rafael had been in California for nearly two months now. Since then, he finally unpacked his kitchen utensils and unboxed the bookcase, and built it. Now it clashed with the loveseat and lone TV stand (with no TV), but it held all of his law books. He even had the internet set up. He kept putting off taking driving lessons, even though he really needed the independence of driving himself. The idea of operating a vehicle partially terrified him, but he couldn’t find the time to schedule practice, and if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t want to do it in the first place.

He finally got to meet Sugeun in person. The older gentleman let himself in (to be fair, the property was still in his name, and Rafael initially agreed for Sugeun to come in from time to time to check up) as Rafael was placing an online grocery order. The man was courteous, and brought over coffee. “A very fancy brand, one I’m sure you’re familiar with.” He joked, as if he practiced it on the way here.

“What makes you think I like fancy things?”

Sugeun shrugged. “Well who doesn’t?” He answered easily. “Also, Sergeant Nick told me you were a man of exquisite taste.”

“He did _not_ .” Thinking of Nick saying the word _exquisite_ nearly gave him an aneurysm.

“And he was right! What kind of a man can pull off a silk violet polo with designer jeans when he’s lounging about in his home?” Rafael laughed nervously because he didn’t want to admit he was running low on clean shirts, he was incredibly behind on laundry, and he forgot to bring his Harvard shirts from his mother’s house. They brewed coffee and discussed any issues Rafael had with the house. Rafael had horror stories about landlords that still unfurled a ball of rage in his stomach, and to see Sugeun take diligent notes on where he could improve or if Rafael needed help adjusting was a welcome sight. While Rafael served the coffee, Sugeun told him that he had two other properties in the Los Angeles area, one outside of Fremont, and a few in Hawaii. “I plan to retire and settle down in Oahu, live out my golden years.” He explained.

“And when is that? Fifty years?” Sugeun laughed politely.

“I hope not!” The coffee was one of those blends made exclusively from a small shop in Honolulu. Rafael only knew this because the New York D.A. had it shipped biweekly and would pour Rafael some when he would visit. The conversation shifted back to Nick, Sugeun proudly calling him ‘Sergeant Nick’ and only that.

“I’m surprised that man isn’t at least Captain by now,” he remarked. “He is a vibrantly intelligent and resourceful man. Keen eye, and fair, too.”

“He’s just a little too young to be Captain, and he has a temper.” Had? Shamefully, Rafael had been waiting for Nick to slip and expose his old self, the one that endured a demotion and court-ordered anger management like it was killing him. He knew Nick was a good cop and had instincts that even put Olivia to shame, but lacked the pragmatism and caution. It was just a foolish ploy to stop this childish crush that seemed to be stuck to him no matter how hard he wanted it gone. 

“A temper? I’ve never seen him angry, and he puts killers away.”

“Probably doesn’t take the job home with him.” Rafael took a sip of his coffee, hoping they could change the subject.

“Have you been able to explore Los Angeles? There are a myriad of museums and theaters here. They pale in comparison to New York broadway, to be sure, but the talent is immense.”

“I literally haven’t been anywhere, except to work. It’s sad; when I visited once, I thought this city was one giant playground, but now that I live here, I find myself burying into my work. I… I forgot what it meant to have fun.” Rafael admitted.

“Perhaps you don’t want to experience the city alone? Any friends to explore with?”

“It’s funny, the idea of lawyers having friends… all of my friends are in New York.”

“Come now, you have two friends here! Myself, and-”

“Sergeant Nick?” He finished.

“Of course! He was excited to have you move here. He told me all about you when you two worked together. He said he’s never met a more capable attorney. He spoke very highly of you.”

“Oh?” Excited? “I’m still entertaining the belief that he disliked me.” And Rafael knew that Nick wanted them to start fresh, wanted them to actually be friends. And it was a relief to him; there was an infinitesimal part in his brain that desired the closeness. And here he was, three thousand miles away with only Amaro to take the necessary steps forward. If only he would not overthink on any inane passing moment between them.

“I am unaware of your past history, but every time he mentioned you, it was near reverence. What? He never mentioned it to you?” He asked at Rafael’s surprise.

Reigning himself in before he devolved into a gossipy housewife, he turned on lawyer mode and guarded his emotions. The conversation shifted to their childhoods, and Rafael wouldn’t bring up his father, so Sugeun politely never pried. He talked about his Harvard days, how he took bottom-of-the-barrel paralegal work to learn every facet of the law and to be ahead of his student loans. Sugeun wanted to become a doctor, but couldn’t get into his dream school, so found other avenues of work, and found out to be a prolific businessman. He moved to the United States in the late eighties. There was a chance for him to start a family, but he became engrossed in his work, none of his relationships grew past a few dates.

“Do you regret it?” Rafael felt camaraderie in him. “Part of me hoped to be settled down with someone by now.”

“Starting a family?”

“I don’t want kids.”

“It’s commonplace for Koreans to want to start a family. I like kids, but I didn’t want any of my own. Made sense to be a doctor if I were a man solely focused on medicine and not family.”

“Same for Cubans. I might have wanted a family of my own, and I know my Mamà would want some grandkids of her own, but she knew how invested I was with my job, and she can’t force me to start a family. And-”

“And?” Rafael almost told Sugeun about the whole trial thing, and when the older man raised his eyebrows enough to suspect that Rafael believed that he already knew about it, he almost let the dam burst. But what would Sugeun think of him, if he didn’t know? God, why was it so hard to say?

“And, nothing.” Lawyer mode resumed in full force, that Sugeun took the hint and they spoke no more than that. After a few moments, he announced that he had other errands to attend to, and made his move to leave. He made a promise to keep in touch, and to not hesitate to contact him if he needed to schedule any repairs, or if he wanted to explore the town and partake in some Korean barbeque. “I know the best one in the city, I go once a week!” Rafael promised to keep in touch, thanked him for his visit, and promised to invite him over for dinner, once he’s properly moved in.

“Sure thing, and invite Sergeant Nick over!”

“I,” Rafael sighed, resigned. “Yes, I will.”

Φ

It was a difficult thing, catching up with Nick. The school year was approaching, so Nick was spending time with his children, and crime never seemed to stop, so Nick was busy catching killers. And Rafael’s stack of cases never seemed to shrink. _Why did I agree to be a defense attorney again_? Crime needed to take a vacation. There were two voicemails left by Olivia that Rafael meant to listen to and call back but he didn’t feel like it. A shame, his closest friend and one of the few who truly respected him as a person and he wouldn’t make time for her. “Maybe she’ll send Amaro over to ask why I won’t respond to her calls.” Rafael ignored the instant wish of that actually happening. He sent Olivia a short email, expressing his apologies he couldn’t catch up but would find the time to call her back.

He invited Nick over. “I’d take you out to dinner but I don’t have a car, but you knew that already.” He said over the phone.

“Oh we would have gone Dutch in an Uber pool,” Nick joked, but he said he couldn’t wait to try Rafael’s cooking. Rafael asked his mother to send him recipes that he liked as a kid.

“Why?” She asked. “You’re going to ruin them.”

“ _He mejorado mi cocina_ ,” Rafael argued, and the conversation devolved into a loving squabble of Spanish that warmed his heart. Lucia eventually told him how to make two dishes, and after she made Rafael promise not to mess up the black beans (“How could you even tell if I did mess them up?” “I would just _know_ , _mijo_ ,”) Rafael pulled out his pots and pans and halfway through washing the produce and simmering the beans for—did she really call for _six hours_ ?—Rafael realized that cooking would not be one of his hobbies. The _picadillo_ wasn’t coming together like his mother’s, but the taste didn’t seem too bad. _Yeah, I’d serve that to a cat_. But would he serve it to Nick?

He called Nick again when he was sure the man was home. He saw Maria pick up Zara last week, and Nick had to drop Gil off at the train station. He only knew this because Nick tried to call him and left a voicemail about it, promising to call back when he had the chance. Rafael let the promise of hearing Nick’s voice over the phone do tiny flips in his stomach.

“ _Hola, amigo_.” He answered, voice rough and scratchy. Rafael needed to get a life if such a simple phrase was going to make him punch the wall to stave off his lust.

“ _Hola, Sargento_. Please tell me you haven’t made plans for dinner.”

“Tonight?” He sounded tired, almost resigned. Rafael thought to reschedule dinner.

“Yeah, I actually made a home cooked meal for the first time in months.”

“This I’ve gotta see. I’ll be over in twenty.” Nick hung up and suddenly Rafael was left to fret if his place was clean enough. Clean laundry that was folded up in baskets in the living room because he got caught up in a case reading (but hey, at least he folded up the laundry); Rafael hurried to hide them in his bedroom and freshened up. _Why am I brushing my teeth? This isn’t a date_. Rafael did it anyway and smoothed out his hair, and checked on the status of the food.

Nick arrived fifteen minutes later, holding another bottle of scotch. “I didn’t buy this,” he hastily explained. “My Lieutenant gave this to me when we finally got a perp to confess. She doesn’t know I don’t drink, and I didn’t have the heart to refuse her. So…”

“I normally frown upon regifting, but you know me, I’m down for free booze. Thank you.” Rafael let Nick in, still embarrassed of his sparse furniture choices.

Nick sniffed the air, recognition washing over his face. “Is that…” he followed Rafael into the kitchen, looking down into the pot. “ _Picadillo_? And black beans? Oh ho ho, Rafael, a man after my own heart.”

“It’s not steak, because I have to be honest, I could never understand how to cook a perfect medium-rare piece of beef.”

But Nick didn’t mind, promises of steak forgotten. “We can’t excel at everything,” he said, distracted, a second from pestering Rafael if the food was ready. “I haven’t had home cooked Cuban food in a long time. You can’t get that here in L.A.”

“It’s my mother’s recipe, handed down from my _abuela_ , so I _really_ can’t mess this up. She said she’d call me and berate me over the speaker if I screw up this dish. She hasn’t called yet, but it is 10 PM in New York, so she’s probably asleep.”

“Nothing better than a recipe handed down from _abuelita_ , Though, my family’s black beans were the best, so don’t be mad if I’m critical.”

“I will cheerfully kick you out if you besmirch my _abuela_.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t. Might besmirch you, though.” Nick smirked, eyes dark and Rafael had to look away. He wondered if he had to go see a doctor to ask why his heart raced uncharacteristically when he saw Nick seat himself at his dinner table, expectantly waiting for food. He noticed that when he served Nick a plate, the Sergeant’s glance cut into him, and his tongue swiped across his lips, so quick that Rafael swore he imagined it.

“It smells damn good,” Nick complimented.

“Thank you.”

Nick spared him another glance as he took a sip of his drink. “You smell nice.” Rafael had to pull on his courtroom face to stop the schoolgirl flush bloom.

They ate with idle chatter, Nick complimenting the food. “Your mother taught you well.”

“Thank you, I’ll be sure to tell her. Have you ever cooked with your mother?”

Something darkened in Nick’s eyes, his jaw was set and he placed his fork down with deliberation. “I have four sisters, so they cooked with her.” He said after a moment. “I tried to learn, but…”

Rafael could figure out the rest; Nick’s father would be against his son learning how to cook. It was probably a bad idea to mention the family Nick still had living in New York. After the trial, he didn’t need Amanda and Olivia telling him that Nick’s family all but alienated him. Even though he had Zara and Gil and even sometimes Maria to talk to, the idea of even his mother not talking to him would still prod at a wound.

“I’m sorry for… bringing your mother up.” Nick looked at him, vulnerable for a second, and tried to play it off with a shrug.

“I don’t think she hates me. She sent me a text saying she got my Mother’s Day cards I sent her. She asks about Zara, about Gil. But that’s it.” He distracted himself by making a mush of the beans and the rice, some black and brown slurry that made the food look unappetizing.

“Let’s change the subject?” Rafael offered. Nick nodded. “I finally met Sugeun last week. He’s really taken to you.”

Nick chuckled. “He’s honestly the only friend I have outside of work,” he admitted. “Him, and you.”

“He said that about me as well. We made a promise to hit the town, when I stopped becoming consumed with my work.”

“So that’ll be never?”

“You’re one to talk. You only make time for your children.”

“Now, is that such a bad thing?” Nick was playing with his food again, but he was smiling softly.

“It’s not. You’re a terrific father. It’s still a rare sight these days.” They stared at each other, Rafael the first to look away.

“I just want to be there for them as much as I can,” Nick murmured. “They’re still young, but I feel as if I’ve missed so much. That’s the curse of the job; you don’t get to see your family as often, and when you do, the job greets them first by building a barrier. I try to not raise my voice or reprimand them, especially Zara. She saw my marriage explode firsthand, and though she was too young to process it, I’m sure she remembers. She’s now at that age where stories of my past at the NYPD will come to haunt her, and if she asks her mom, or me, about it, we’d have to tell the truth. I’m… genuinely afraid of her being scared of her dad.”

“Like you are afraid of your dad?” Well that subject pivot didn’t last long. Nick looked at him again.

“Yeah,” he admitted finally. “Like I’m afraid of him. I don’t want to be like that for her.”

“And you’re not, not at all. They know that, Liv knows that, Maria knows that, hell, even I know that.”

“But _I_ don’t believe in that.”

“Do you see yourself as a monster?” Nick couldn’t look at him this time.

“I… I don’t know.”

“You’re not one, not at all. You confuse yourself with the monsters you catch and put away. You made mistakes that would have ended your career, but here you are, starting all over again, carving out a new life, being an amazing cop. If you were anything less than that, would you even be promoted? Would you even be back on the force?”

“The LAPD doesn’t have a great track record; so I don’t know if them giving me a second chance is anything good to go by.”

“It is, and that’s the hill I’ll die on, Nick.”

Nick shook his head as he continued to eat, but he seemed touched. “Thank you, Raf,” He said. “That means a lot coming from you.”

“I mean, I’d be wondering why I’m still so damn into you if you weren’t a good person.” Rafael realized what he said and he froze, fork in mid-air. Nick stared at him, bug-eyed. The silence was abrupt and tense; Rafael wondered if he should run to his room and hide in the closet.

“Um,” Rafael couldn’t place Nick’s expression, wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what it meant.

“You, uh,” Nick couldn’t seem to form the words. “You’re into me?”

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck…”

“I can hear you muttering that from over here. Didn’t your Mamà teach you not to curse at the dinner table?”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Rafael responded, taking their lates and busying himself with cleaning up. He made a show of scraping the remnants of the food into the trash, putting dirty dishes in the dishwasher. He could hear the chair scrape back as Nick was getting up towards him. He could gauge how close he was behind him. Rafael had faced tons of heartless criminals with penchants for extreme violence without so much as a blink. His nerves are steel in the courtroom, on the other side of the table in prison when he gives suspects an ultimatum. But here, faced with the truth, and the man who learned about it, Rafael couldn’t face him.

“Do you need help with cleaning up?” Nick asked softly.

“No, I got it, thank you. You should— you should leave.”

“Rafael.” His name sounded different, like Nick really meant to say “We should talk” instead.

“I got an early start at the office, I should get to bed. You should too, Sergeant.”

“I’m Nick.” Nick put his hand on Rafael’s shoulder. It was a solid weight, and Nick could turn him around if he wanted. But Rafael didn’t turn. After a moment, Nick’s hand slid from his shoulder, and without saying anything, made to leave. The tell of shoes scuffling and the door opening told Rafael that Nick finally left.

“Oh, what did I just do?”

  
  


Φ

Like always, Rafael found himself up at 3:30 AM. He’d resigned to the fact that he’ll never know the luxury of sleeping in anymore. He got up, brushed his teeth, and went to put on some shoes. He was out the door and walking aimlessly before he stopped himself. He knew the area a little now, from observing the landscape from the backseat of an Uber. The beach was in the distance, an hour away if he kept up this pace. This amount of walking, walking without a care at some weird hour of the day, was the catharsis he needed. The suburb turned into a set of strip malls and corner businesses that looked odd that their signs were turned off and their doors barred up. There was one gas station open, casting a dull fluorescent glow across the street. He felt as if he stepped into another world.

He felt as if he truly slipped into an alternate reality, when he saw Nick leaving the store with a bottle of water. He was dressed in sleep pants and a flannel shirt over a T shirt. Where was he going? Why was he up at this hour?

“Nick?” He called, and the man looked over at him, not as surprised as he should look. Or the man is just excellent at masking his emotions. He walked over to Rafael, taking a swig of his water.

“Seems like you’re also still on New York time.” The sweat shining on his forehead was illuminated by the gas station sign.

“I haven't been able to sleep past 3:30. I thought I’d get used to living in California. But my body is still in New York. I just…”

“The beach is this way. C’mon.” Nick took Rafael’s hand without so much as heads up. Rafael sputtered at the contact, but made no attempt to remove his hand from Nick’s grasp.

It was just them, and a few stragglers who spared their closeness no mind. Nick matched his stride with Rafael’s so he wasn’t ahead of him.

“Sometimes I walk down here, to clear my head.” Nick was talking, Rafael listened. “I don’t want to let the job get to me, but it does. I haven’t slept past 3 AM in years. Usually I just, lie in bed, might read a book, or make a decent cup of _cafecito_. Just mundane shit before I head out and see other fresh horrors.” Rafael remained silent. “I think about taking trips with my kids, I think about their futures, I think about my family in New York, the NYPD, and what I would have been if I stayed. But if I’m honest? I think about _you_ a lot.” His hand was warm and comforting, and it made Rafael’s hands feel clammy. He still didn’t part. They’ve approached the beach. There were some homeless stragglers about to harass them, but Nick had his badge and flashed it. They scattered and left them alone.

“You think about _me_?” Rafael repeated. He was sure his voice was drowned out by the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, but Nick must have heard because he nodded.

“There’s a word or some scientific definition that could explain why I’m always thinking about you. I don’t quite understand it. When I moved over here, I said my goodbyes to everyone, even Carisi...”

“But not me.” Rafael finished.

“I thought you wouldn’t want to hear from me. I didn’t… I didn’t know what feelings I had for you, still have, but, I felt like your opinion of me mattered the most. I don’t… I’m not good at this.”

“I’m not good at this either.” Their hands finally apart, they still remained close; if the wind picked up anymore Nick would be bumping into him.

Nick did that laugh that seemed as if he was frustrated. “I couldn’t tell Liv,” he continued. “I’m unsure she would have understood. I mean, maybe. How else do you tell your ex-partner that you were forming an interest in a colleague?”

“Uh, what?” Someone pinch Rafael so he could wake up.

“I kinda figured that Sugeun spilled that I would constantly talk about you.” Oh yeah, Rafael meant to ask about that.

“You are perfect, I feel as if that word describes you best. I told Sugeun about your mastery of the courtroom, how you gave me courage to testify against my father. I don’t know anyone who would be willing to be in my corner after all that. I told him that you’ve been through the same shit I’ve endured and you’re living the life I wished I had.”

“Even with no kids?”

“That’s the only exception, but, you’re….”

“I’m not perfect, Nick. Not even close.”

“You may think that, but, I don’t. I think you’re wonderful, and it took me three years apart to figure that out.” And it was painful yet relieving, to listen to Nick explain the process of his attraction to him, how he wanted to call Rafael out of the blue while he was recovering in physical therapy, how he wished he was brave enough to put a name to these feelings, that maybe their relationship would have been different. “I’m an idiot for trying to deny it, to play it off. But I’m living honest, now.”

“I’m an idiot too, I didn’t want to make any advances because… I thought you were-” Rafael gestures at Nick’s being- “straight.”

Nick scoffed. “I did not wear this flannel to be mistaken for straight,” he joked, so unexpected, that Rafael laughed hard enough that he doubled over.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting that!”

“It’s fine, I like admitting the truth though. Sugeun’s the only person I’ve told. I think Amanda and Liv might have an idea, with all the questions I’ve been asking. I feel safe in telling you that I’m not confined to one box.”

Rafael flushed, smiled. The sky was streaking slowly to magenta, the dark azure slowly disappearing into the Pacific. They stood there, taking it all in as the day was just beginning. They have been standing there for hours, but Rafael didn’t care; the deep orange glinting off Nick’s profile was worth it. And here they stood, in this insignificant part of the beach, as he realized this was the best thing to happen to him since he moved here.

“Wow,” Nick breathed as the sunlight gently sparkled against the ocean. “Can you beat that?”

“No,” Rafael leaned into him, which Nick looked, something soft and knowing in his eyes. “You can’t.” They shared a look, and it was Nick who leaned the rest of the way as they kissed. Nick’s lips were slightly chapped and his nose jabbed into Rafael’s cheek. Rafael thought it paled in comparison to the warmth and the taste of his mouth.

“I want to do that again, sometime.” Nick pulled away reluctantly.

“Yeah, I want to do that again too.” They stood there for a moment before they made their way back home. Rafael thought it wouldn’t be bad if he was late to work for this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry I'm trying to update as much as I can but I manage an essential business, and said business is wildly understaffed, so I don't get to revel in a quarantine. plus, writer's block is a bitch. like, I know how I want this chapter to play out, and the other chapters since, but man oh man that last part feels like right pap. I'm most likely going to edit it multiple times.
> 
> and they don't bone in this chapter.


	5. we go at your own pace

Φ

  
  


They met up again two weeks later. Since then, Rafael wouldn’t admit it, but he could still feel the scratch of Nick’s lips against his, the sure grip of his hand between his fingers, and could still imagine the way the tender sunlight bounced off his cheekbones. He found himself idly swirling his pen against paper, making nonsense doodles whenever he thought about it. Surging with giddiness, Rafael had to play off his excitement in meeting Nick again. Sure, Nick had said he was welcome to stop by anytime, and wouldn't be overbearing if they kept in touch. "We're neighbors, Raf," he explained so easily, that Rafael could hint some aloofness, but there was that small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, one Rafael’s seen when he finally found the solution to a crime. He'd blame it on his imagination for seeing something more than it actually was. 

Honestly, aside from them delicately stepping around their revealed feelings, Rafael didn't want to run off and jump in headfirst. This was new for both of them, definitely new for Nick. And if you were to ask him why, he’d say he was scared. What if they’re making a huge mistake and ruining their friendship just as it was starting? What if they continued to let this bud blossom and Nick could see that Rafael had a thing to let things go too far, and whatever this attraction was would spoil between them? What if the old Nick, battered, bruised and distant, came back, scaring Rafael?

“Or, what if I just took this one step at a time?” Rafael asked himself, running his fingers through his hair, routinely smoothing it in case anyone saw his disarray. He just got off the phone with Nick who asked him out to dinner.

“Like a date?” Rafael couldn’t stop himself. He could practically see Nick, in the Homicide breakroom, slowly blinking and masking his emotions as the question processed in his brain.

“Yeah,” Nick tripped up on the word, and Rafael has never heard him stumble his speech. “I suppose we could call it that. If you want.” Rafael couldn’t hear the rest; there was a tea kettle whistling loudly in his brain.

“It could just be dinner,” Rafael offered.

“It could. 8:30 sound good?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you up then.” Rafael hung up and spent twenty minutes trying to play it cool in front of junior associates.

They went to this small Mexican restaurant that looked like a cop hangout. If Rafael weren’t so familiar with police-friendly dives he’d probably be offended, especially since Los Angeles has a sprawling eclectic gastronomy scene. When asked, Nick realized that he forgot to ask Rafael what he wanted, and looked like he was scrambling for an apology.

“I didn’t realize to ask you,” Nick admitted. “It wasn’t… it wasn’t a good day at work. I wanted something comforting. We could leave.”

“No, no, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.” Now Rafael felt selfish and figured he ruined this budding relationship before it began. “This place looks… cozy.” It was sparsely decorated and the chairs were well-worn, so perhaps the owners put more thought into the food than the atmosphere.

Nick didn’t sound convinced, making a way to the door, his hand gently grabbing Rafael’s arm to follow. “We could go someplace else.”

“Or we could sit the hell down because it’s late and this place looks nice.” Nick eventually sat down and Rafael followed suit.

“Sorry, if you want to leave, I won’t argue.”

“ _I’m sorry_ , I don’t want to make you feel like you need to impress me.” Nick had the beginnings of an embarrassed smirk on his face that he was trying to suppress.

“Can’t help it,” like an upturned glass of water, Nick’s grin eventually spilled. “I’ve only known you for years to have discerning fancy tastes.”

“Sometimes a bougie man like myself needs to be humble. Plus, you said it’s like comfort food?”

“Something of the sort.”

“That’s good. I like comfort food.” Rafael gave him a small smile and that was that, they were staying. After they ordered their food, Rafael broke first-date protocol and asked about work. “You said you didn’t have a good day, what happened?”

Nick looked like he already said too much, but could see Rafael was curious. “Just all the shit that comes with the job,” is all he said. “The Detectives have low morale, my Lieutenant is thinking of transferring, just when I think we might actually be friends.”

“She gave you alcohol, so I assume she thinks of you as a friend.”

“I told her I gave it to you, and now she only talks to me when she needs to pull rank.”

“Ah,” Rafael admired that Nick just couldn’t lie. “Call me crazy but I think she might have something for you if she’s reacting like that.”

Nick furrowed his brow in confusion, but when he realized what Rafael was saying. “Oh God no,” Nick let out a shaky laugh. “Lieutenant Jackson is old enough to be my mom. We don’t--we don’t, we don’t have that.”

“Oh, so I don’t have to fight anyone for your affection?” They just served Rafael tequila but here he was already flirting like some vodka aunt. Realizing this, he practically slammed his shot glass down and busied himself with his napkins.

But Nick grinned, laughing softly and had to restrain himself from reaching across the table to take Rafael’s hand in his. “No, no you don’t.”

The food was excellent ( _cochinita pibil_ for Rafael and Nick ordered something vegetarian--Rafael ought to ask what’s that all about), and the tequila distilled locally, and the service was phenomenal. Nick was really comfortable here and the proprietors all had nice things to say about him. Apparently, right before Nick got promoted, there was a murder in their family (their youngest son) that Nick solved. It was rough seeking solace, especially burying a child, and usually Homicide detectives don't keep in contact with families from past crimes. They finish one case and immediately go to the next, all but forgetting the families affected by tragedy. Not Nick, he helped them set up funeral arrangements, was a shoulder to cry on while the culprit was getting his day in court, and came by on his off days to just talk to the husband who adjusted slowly to life with one less child. “We served many cops, and like a lot of them, but no one is so _compasivo_ as Nicolas.” The wife gently patted Nick’s face with her palm. “He’s like family. We don’t know where we’d be had he not helped us.”

“Nick’s always been a helper,” Rafael admitted. “It’s his one redeeming quality.”

“Hey,” Nick playfully swatted at him. The wife wanted to speak more with him, and Nick was polite to talk to her for a moment. Rafael didn’t feel left out, even if he tried to butt in; he admired the way the two rapidly conversed in Spanish, tripping over Mexican colloquialisms that Nick didn’t grow up with because he’s Cuban. But he understood the conversation well enough-- _are you being safe out there_ ? _As safe as I can be_ . _It’s dangerous out there, you better be wearing your vest_ . _Never leave the precinct without it_.

“Who is this?” The wife seemed to remember Rafael was sitting across from Nick.

“My friend Rafael Barba, he moved here a few months ago. He used to be the ADA in New York.”

“Ah, _abogado_ ? _Cubano_?” The wife smiled at him.

Rafael smiled back. “ _Nosotros estamos en todas partes_.” He joked, and they laughed. The wife seemed to realize that she was intruding on something, and left to greet the flow of customers coming in. Nick immediately shifted his attention back to Rafael, a slight twinkle in his eyes.

“You said I didn’t have to fight anyone for your affection,” Rafael said wryly as he took a shot of tequila. “The lie detector test determined that was a lie.” Nick had to bite down on his fist to keep from laughing too loudly. It was exhilarating and still a new experience, to see Nick be so comfortable and not stern in a public setting. Even though he had earned the respect and admiration from the squad in New York, and Nick was comfortable around them, there was an edge to him that he couldn’t shake off, like he was constantly hiding his true self. Every laugh had bite to it, every snide comment scathing and sarcastic. It’s the job, Rafael knew, and dealing with aggravated rape and assault on a daily basis erodes at their psyche. He thought dealing with murder would be worse on him, but seeing Nick relax and the lines on his face soften, Rafael hoped he’d be wrong.

Two Detectives came in, recognized Nick, and tried to get his attention, but Nick only gave them a cursory glance and nod, keeping his focus on Rafael.

“Looks like the Sarge is on a date,” one Detective sneered, and Nick just blinked, pointedly not looking at them. 

“Friends of yours?” Rafael asked, feeling their stares on his back.

“ _Subordinates_ ,” Nick corrected. “Detective Atwater from Robbery and Detective Ramirez from Cold Cases. I’ve only worked with them once before I partnered up with Kimura.”

“Pulling rank even at dinner? The power is going straight to your head.”

“I _know_ ,” Nick rolled his eyes, smiling. “It’s a rush. Is this how Olivia feels all the time?”

“I think they want to talk to you.”

“Well, they can wait until work tomorrow. I haven’t seen you all week and I want to hear _from_ you and connect _with_ you.” Rafael blushed, a deep crimson in the dim tea lights and faded yellow bulbs; he blamed it on the tequila.

“I’m not... on a date with them.” Nick looked at Rafael, as if he wanted permission to call this dinner that.

Rafael gave the atmosphere around them a once-over: the group of loud drunks in the corner speaking Spanish, off-duty cops airing their grievances on patrol responsibilities, and the two Detectives sparing glances at Nick as they pounded back tequila like they were getting a limb amputated. And in the cacophony of the restaurant, the tiny table they were seated at a small oasis, there was Nick, gazing intently at him, the pool of water to quench his thirst.

Rafael reached over and took Nick’s hand into his, who gladly held it. “Next date you can take me to those fancy Michelin-starred restaurants, where they charge $35 for a salad and claim to give the cow a deep-tissue massage before killing it.”

“Rafa, I’m a cop, you think I can afford that?” Nick joked as he paid for the bill and they said their goodbyes to the proprietors, the Detectives fully drunk and not realizing their Sergeant was leaving. The air was warm and it felt soothing against Rafael’s face when he opened the door outside, who felt like the amount of tequila he consumed was going to bite him in the ass in the morning.

“Hmm, maybe I’ll take _you_ on a date then.” Rafael followed Nick to his car. The burning bulb of the streetlamp illuminated Nick in an effulgent glow, cast shadows on his face. His eyes looked dark and maybe Rafael was too drunk to read the hunger in them.

“Promise?”

“Yeah, let me ask my mom if it’s okay if I could borrow the car.” Nick laughed and opened the passenger door for him, like a gentleman, and drove off. They were quiet in the car, Rafael shamelessly looking at Nick’s side profile and cursing himself for forgetting it in the future because this tequila is working _fast_.

“You had a slight limp when we were leaving the restaurant, is your leg bothering you?” They stopped at a red light and the glow of the stoplight made Nick look angry, but Rafael knew he wasn’t.

Nick looked like he wanted to lie, but he just couldn’t. “Another reason why my day wasn’t the greatest,” he said. “Kimura and I were following a tip on someone who might have been a witness to a murder. The witness had a long rap sheet and when we went to his grandmother’s house, they both thought we were there to arrest him. The witness was making a run for it and I tried to follow suit, but the grandmother blocked me and ran over my foot with her mobility scooter.” Even in the darkness of the car, Rafael knew Nick was blushing, and he couldn’t help the laughter bubbling uncontrollably out of him.

“I’m sorry!” Rafael wasn’t sorry at all, doubling over in his seat, the tequila making short work of demolishing his control. “Please tell me you arrested the grandma on charges of aiding and abetting a suspect.”

Nick took Rafael’s laughter in stride, smiling infectiously. “The grandma? No, I couldn’t do that… I arrested the mobility scooter.” Rafael laughed even harder, Nick fighting the urge to laugh along with him as he focused on getting them home.

When they arrived at Rafael’s house, Rafael didn’t get out right away. Does he invite Nick in? This is a first date, and even though the tequila was loosening his inhibitions and Nick was receptive, Rafael still thought this was too fast.

“I had fun,” he said after a moment. “I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard in ages.”

“It was good. I’m glad you liked it.” Nick looked tired but pleased, almost relieved.

“If I may ask, since I’m kinda tipsy and my filter is _al diablo_ -”

“When is your filter ever on?” Nick chuckled when Rafael nudged him with his elbow.

“What made you decide to start dating men?” Nick blinked. “When did you realize you were attracted to men?”

Nick breathed hard through his nose, trying to form a cohesive sentence. “Well, I’ve had the same reservations with men—they’re nice to look at, but I didn’t think I could try and court one. A few years? After the divorce I think I decided to let it take course, if I’m honest-”

“And you always are.”

“—Damn straight. If I’m honest… the only man I ever thought about is you.” Nick looked at Rafael, really looked at him, and shrugged.

“You’re kidding me.”

“I’d never lie to you, Rafa. You helped with my sexual reawakening.”

“You mean, after living here for three years, in a city with movie stars and models and gorgeous businessmen, not once did you fantasize about them?” 

“You mean that one time I had a vague wet dream about Mario Lopez because I saw him in passing? That doesn’t count.” Nick deadpanned, put his hands up when Rafael was sputtering. “That’s another story for another time.”

“I want this story _now_.”

“You’re gonna have to wait. But, I was genuinely _excited_ when I heard you were moving here. I had to restrain myself to hide my elation. We could start over, become genuine honest-to-God friends, and maybe something more. If you wanted. I hope… I hope I’m not forcing you into anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“You’re not. It’s been awhile since I’ve dated, and even longer since I’ve been with the same sex, so I’m just so rusty.”

“Two rusty cogs, grinding together.” Nick joked, causing both of them to erupt into fresh peals of laughter. “Way to make a dad joke so goddamn dirty, Amaro.”

“But still,” Rafael continued when he calmed himself. “As you can see, all of my past relationships ended badly. Like, we can’t even interact in the same social circles, it’s just so bad. I’m to blame, I got a loudmouth and I’m scathing in arguments, and I bury myself in booze and work to hide from my problems. And honestly, I was excited to see you again, but I was afraid to start something, because I thought you hated me.” Rafael felt like a child admitting this.

“I could never hate you, Rafael.”

“I just had this huge one-sided crush on you, and I thought it was silly to feed it because I’m a middle-aged man who shouldn’t get crushes. And I’m afraid to mess up something that we started up again and I couldn’t fix it.” He gestured at the space between them. “I’m afraid to ruin this. It’s been too long since I’ve felt wanted.”

“I’m fine going at your pace. I’m a patient man.”

“Patience is a virtue.”

“If you just want to continue being friends, I’m fine with that, too.”

“Are you sure about that?” Rafael looked at him to make sure he wasn’t just saying that to be polite.

“Positive. We’ll just call that the Olivia Approach.”

“Speaking of, should we tell anyone?” Nick shook his head, looking away.

“Not right now. Our inner circles are busy; let’s throw two old friends potentially dating into the chaos. That oughta smooth things over.” Rafael agreed. If they decided that maybe this wasn’t going to work, it saved the trouble of explaining things to outside parties. He had to admit, a clandestine relationship with Nick sent a thrilling shock down his spine. Their own little secret, in their own corner of the world. There was only room for two people.

“We go at your pace,” Nick summarized. “I follow your lead. If I make you feel rushed, just say so.”

“If I make you feel uncomfortable, just tell me.” Rafael agreed, and in the dim light of the streetlamp, Nick’s eyes glittered.

“I’d kiss you, but my breath smells and I…”

“Nothing says budding romance like the taste and smell of pickled onions and cumin.”

“We can settle for a very firm handshake.”

“Okay, I’m going to head in before you make me crack a rib for laughing too much.” Rafael unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door.

“I could get that for you,” Nick’s motor skills were slowing as the late hour was kicking in.

“I know I had a lot of tequila but I think I can handle a door handle,” Rafael put too much force onto the door and it swung out, jarring his movements. Rafael steadied himself before he fell onto the pavement. “Maybe I can’t.” He stepped out before Nick tried to bend over backwards to help him. “Well I’m gonna go sleep off this alcohol before I inevitably wake up at 3 AM. _Buenas noches_ , Nick.” Nick smiled, wishing Rafael a good night before driving off. He washed up and headed for bed, whistling a jaunty tune from his childhood.

  
  


Φ

The next “date” was a week and half later, and it actually had Rafael explore the Los Angeles theater scene. There was a national tour of _South Pacific_ in Los Angeles for the week, and for someone who would go to a new play or musical every week (he would boast that he saw the original cast of _The Book of Mormon_ twice at the Eugene O-Neill Theatre and saw Daveed Diggs’ last performance in _Hamilton_ ) he’d actually never seen _South Pacific_. He knew that Nick knew of the arts, had a staggering knowledge of the classics, but did he appreciate theatrical performance like Rafael did? Now Rafael was nervous; what if Nick didn’t enjoy this? It was startling to remember that another’s opinion weighed just as much as his did.

But after Nick parked a couple blocks away from the theater and Rafael showed him the pair of tickets, the Sergeant beamed, eyes bright and excited. 

"I've always wanted to see this, and I didn't think I would ever find time to fly back home to see it. Rafa, how did you know?"

"You like musical theater?"

Nick shrugged, that secret smirk formed on his face. “Went to a few in my teens, liked them plenty.” Something in his eyes said more than that, but if Nick wanted to say more he would, so Rafael left it at that.

There was apprehension of going on a date where for two hours they couldn’t talk. Rafael was surprised how easy it was to talk to Nick; apparently carrying a conversation that wasn’t work-related was easier than he anticipated.

“I’m unsure if Zara would like this one?” Nick said during intermission, pocketing his Playbill like some collector. “She appreciated _Hamilton_ , and liked _Annie_ , but maybe this might go over her head.”

“She likes theater?” Rafael was wondering if he should buy an overpriced program.

“Loves it; she enjoys them. Don’t tell her I said this; she can’t sing for shit, but I’m powerless to stop her when she belts out _The Lion King Musical_ . When I have her over we try to see some play or musical on tour, but it’s hard to find time. She wants to see _The Book of Mormon_ but she’s too young for that.”

“Oh, definitely. It’s incredibly vulgar, but genuinely incredible.”

“You’ve seen it?” Now Nick looked jealous. “I had tickets to go, but it was during the whole Delia Wilson mess and Maria took Zara to D.C. so I was… too distracted to go see it. I occasionally play the soundtrack when I want to distract myself.”

“When it comes back on tour, we need to go see it again.”

“A promise of another date?” Nick slanted his gaze at Rafael, grinning.

“We’ll see.” Turns out Rafael didn’t need alcohol to be such a tease. Whether or not Zara would appreciate this musical, Nick certainly did, and Rafael enjoyed it too, tentatively seeking out Nick’s hand to hold in the darkness of the theater. They went out for drinks later (Rafael drank, Nick had some artisanal fruit water that cost just as much as a glass of scotch) and discussed the musical, Nick rattling off details that Rafael felt ashamed he missed.

“It’s still surprising to hear you be so well-versed in the ways of theater. I guess I have to get this image of ‘macho alpha male detective’ out of my head.”

Nick snorted. “Someone’s got an imagination.”

“What? In my world, you either like musicals, or you like sports.”

“In _my world_ , you like both.” Nick fished out mint leaves from the bottom of his glass. “Whoever claimed that mint-infused water was a good thing is probably rotting in hell.”

“You want something else?”

“Nah, we can leave when you’re ready.” Rafael felt as if Nick was trying too hard to accommodate for his experience. He finished his drink and paid, following Nick back to his car. When Nick dropped him off at his house again, he looked like he wanted to kiss him, but extended his hand instead. Remembering, Rafael laughed, shook it firmly, and bade the Sergeant goodnight.

  
  
  


Φ

Next week was Zara’s eleventh birthday. Rafael didn’t think it would be polite to intrude; Nick’s time with Zara was sacred. But it was Saturday night and Rafael was getting off of a conference call with a client, and just as he was wondering if he wanted to make a mess in the kitchen, Nick called.

“You okay over there?” Rafael answered.

“I’m hosting five girls in my living room and they’re blasting Korean pop, send help.” He’d never heard Nick sound distressed.

“Why would you drag me into this?”

“There’s cake involved?” There was a loud squeal in the background, causing Nick to emit the closest thing to a wail of despair.

“There’s no amount of sugar in the world that can alleviate the sting of young girls shouting. Sorry, Amaro, you’re in this boat alone.”

“Can I come over? Just for like an hour? They’re too distracted by this concert DVD they’re watching.”

“This is what you get for being Father of the Year,” Rafael tsked, and he could hear Nick huff. “See you in ten minutes?”

“Yeah, let me go make sure my guns are properly locked up.”

“Did you say _guns_ as in plural?” But Nick already hung up. He knocked on the door fifteen minutes, juggling two plates of birthday cake and his phone.

“Just how many guns do you own?” Rafael let him in.

“Haha, fuck around and find out later.” Nick handed him a plate of cake laden with vanilla frosting. “Maria made that from scratch.”

“Oh, is she over at your house?”

“Not right now, she left a couple of hours ago. It was nice, Zara wanted a sleepover, so she’s getting one.” Nick was rifling through Rafael’s cabinets like he lived there. “You got any aspirin?”

“Here,” Rafael went to his bathroom and grabbed Advil, handed two to Nick, who popped them with ease, dry-swallowing.

“Thanks,” Nick noticed Rafael’s mild horror at his pill swallowing, but chose to ignore it. “My leg was acting up and I’m still terrified of how loud girls can scream. Who is this ‘Jungkook oppa’ they’re crying about? I’m probably butchering his name.”

“Well, they’re young, and if they’re anything like I was, I could barely stay up past midnight. Come and enjoy the silence.” They both dug into the cake, Rafael marveling at Maria’s baking skills. Now he felt inadequate: she’s beautiful, smart (had to be if she was a Captain), and had damn good baking skills. How in the hell did Nick ruin their marriage?

“How’s the cake?” Nick asked, getting himself a glass of water.

“There’s milk if you want some,” Nick got the milk and poured them two small glasses. “Okay, this cake is so damn delicious that I’m wondering how in the hell you let her get away.”

“That’s a conversation we don’t have over milk.” Nick gulped it down, his brow furrowing slightly, but Rafael noticed.

“Sorry, I just…” He’d definitely poked at a wound.

Realizing that this moment was being soured fast, Nick sighed. “It’s okay, I know you weren’t trying to offend.”

“I’m very nosy, you know, it’s my job to rubberneck.” Nick laughed softly.

“You can say it’s both of our jobs.” Nick stabbed at the cake. “I uh, accused her of sleeping around with her army friends.” He said it so quietly that Rafael thought he misheard.

“Oh.” How do you even respond to that? “That’s… that fucked up.”

“Told you I soiled it. I tried to give her space, tried to show her I was willing to commit, but she just got back from Afghanistan, and she had a hard time adjusting to life back here, and I was blind to it. I realized it was something beyond my control, that I couldn’t fix, so I had this dark cloud looming over me all the time. It scared her, and now that I look back on it, it scared me too.”

“You never… physically hurt her, right?”

“Heavens no.” Nick actually looked sick just thinking about that. “I could _never_ hurt Maria or Zara. First off, do you know how many women in my life would draw and quarter me in public if they even suspected of me harming one hair on their heads? I’m not even talking about Olivia and Amanda yet. Just, totally divorced from that idea. And Maria knew that too, but, I still spooked her. And after I paralyzed an unarmed kid I definitely ruined things. I…” Nick trailed off, realized he said too much, and pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Hope I’m not scaring you,” he said when the silence was just too thick between them.

“You’re not. I don’t think you ever could. Well, except for the unconfirmed amount of guns you have in your house.” Nick laughed, happy that Rafael was trying to lighten the mood. “Seriously, is it a literal stockpile? Are you arming a militia? Those are rising in popularity, you know.”

“Rafa, please!” Nick laughed, his teeth shining. “It’s only three.”

“Three or three hundred?” Nick swatted at him. “But, I’m glad things are well between you and Maria.”

“I’m glad too. I still got love for her, but not in the way a husband loves his wife. She’ll always be a good friend, and I can’t thank her enough for giving me Zara. God, I love that kid.” Nick’s eyes were wet and he blinked back tears. Rafael just smiled. “And in case Gil has me bugged with listening devices, I love him too.”

Rafael ought to change the subject, but he still didn’t have a TV to sit in front of to distract Nick, and how bad would it be for them to curl up on the loveseat and watch something on Rafael’s laptop?

“Hey, if anyone hasn’t told you today, you’re a good man.” Nick finished his cake and looked expectantly at Rafael, smiling. “I’d love to entertain you and distract you but I regretfully done fuck-all in here still.”

“Yeah what the fuck, Raf?” But Nick’s eyes were still twinkling with mirth. They filled the silence with conversations about work, and kids, and bounced off theories on how bad the girls were ruining Nick’s living room.

“Certainly can’t look as bad as yours,” Nick was practically leaning on Rafael, the weight of his body unfamiliar, his scent smelled of vanilla and sweat and sandalwood.

“This _pendejo_ got jokes.” Nick seemed to vibrate with energy, he was so close Rafael could see the individual strands of gray hair stubbornly poking through his thick dark hair. Nick turned him so they were facing each other, and enveloped him in a hug. Rafael almost jumped; he’d never hugged Nick before. The warmth of his body bled through his clothing, and even in the California heat, it wasn’t lost to Rafael.

“Nick?” Nick had buried his face into the crook of Rafael’s shoulder, as a reflex, and shifted so that his nose was by his ear. It felt nice, comforting.

“Nick.” Rafael’s voice dropped to a whisper, breath catching.

Nick kissed him. Soft at first, then mounting with passion in an instant. Rafael threw his hands around Nick’s neck to pull him closer, feeling the thrum of Nick’s energy hum between them like an electric current. He felt himself being pressed against the refrigerator as Nick’s tongue swiped deeper into his mouth, tasting sweet like frosting. Rafael groaned into his mouth, hands running down his sides, committing the shape of his body to memory, this close to grabbing his ass like some wanton strumpet.

When they parted, they were gasping for air, Nick furiously breathing through his nose like he breached the surface of the sea. His pupils were blown, the flush of skin evident.

“I should uh,” he was tongue-tied beyond saving. “I should probably see how bad my living room looks.”

“Yeah,” if Nick didn’t feel it yet, he would definitely see the erection forming in Rafael’s pants if he looked down. “I need to uh, go fold my laundry.”

Nick wheezed out a laugh, leaned for another kiss, which promised something more, and pressed himself off of Rafael.

“I’ll be seeing you?”

“I hope so. Maybe soon.” Rafael walked Nick to the door, watched him toes his shoes on, and wondered if he should give Nick another kiss goodbye. From Nick’s lazy yet satisfied grin as he closed the door behind him, Rafael thought he should have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally don't know what timely updates are. mang I don't even know shit, I'm just vibing out here.  
> sorry for the late post, I don't have a serious reason as to why I held off on this: I was balancing Animal Crossing and the Final Fantasy VII Remake.  
> I hope you're all doing okay. Please be safe.  
> this chapter still isn't how I was hoping for in my head; believe it or not this chapter was supposed to be longer. can I do chapter 5.5? we're gonna find out.  
> wow it's been like 5 seconds I haven't told how much I love it when Nick Amaro is smiling.
> 
> also, they don't bone in this chapter. yet.


	6. but what are we?

Φ

Nick knocked on the door the next morning, while Rafael was brewing coffee. He was running a hand through his hair, sheepish and had an apology ready to spill from his lips.

“Did the girls ruin your living room?” Rafael handed him a mug of coffee, offering cream and sugar but Nick looked too distracted to put any in, or maybe the Sergeant just drank it black and he’s just now learning about this.

“Hmm?” Nick swallowed a particularly large gulp of coffee. “Oh, nothing too bad. I’ve never seen my couch in such a disarray, though.”

“Are you okay? You seem nervous.”

Nick let out a breath. “I just, uh, felt like I took advantage of you last night.” He admitted.

Rafael blinked. “You didn’t.”

“I still feel like, I made you do something you weren’t ready to do just yet, I’m replaying the scene in my head and I just--”

 _Oh, ay dio santo, tu seràs mi muerte_. “Nick, how long have we worked cases for SVU?”

“Three years. About sixty-something cases.” He still couldn’t rack his brain at Nick’s ability to keep track.

“So, long enough to know that if I didn’t want something, I’d either say something, or defend myself.” They were still getting used to the idea of sharing their feelings and their free time like they wanted it to lead somewhere.

“I know, I just can’t help but clear the air. I wanted to make sure you’re okay and that I didn’t hurt you.”

“You didn’t choke-slam me through a plate-glass window, I’m fine.” Rafael joked, Nick trying not to drink coffee and laugh at the same time.

“I just,” Nick looked down. “It’s obvious I haven’t done this in a while.”

“I haven’t done this in a long time either. You’d think I’d know what to do next.”

“Can’t blame me for wanting to make sure I wasn’t scaring you off.” Anxiety bled through Nick’s skin, permeating the air and filling the room. Rafael turned to open the kitchen window. “I just couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss.”

“Well, if you didn’t know, then you’ll be lucky to hear I like to leave a lasting impression on people.” Rafael refilled his coffee, stirring in cream.

Nick did that shrug thing with his head, like he wanted to move on. “So, how was it?” The beginnings of a smirk were slowly spreading on his face. Rafael looked at him.

“It was…” The memory of Nick’s hips and and shoulders against his palms, the searing heat of his mouth branding his lips, the gentle force of being pressed against the refrigerator was permanently seared into his brain. “It was very nice.” Was all he could say. Very nice could only be the perfect summation to why Rafael buried his face into a pillow last night, groaning as he rutted into his fist like some horny teenager. He rubbed his hand against his mouth.

Nick noticed, his eyebrows raised. “Really?” He said. “ _Just, nice_?” Oh, this sonofabitch could see right through him.

“Yeah, just nice. Maybe you do that again and I might have a different evaluation next time.” Rafael made a swift recovery, and Nick laughed, his teeth gleaming, looking so effortlessly handsome Rafael had to wonder what the fuck Nick saw in him.

“Might take you up on your offer…” his tongue swiped against his lips, but Rafael was trained now to spot it.

“Hmm, you off today?”

“Yup, with strict orders not to call me. They knew I requested this weekend off so if they need me, they can use the on-call Sergeant at the precinct.” Nick leaned against the counter, finally putting in cream and sugar in his coffee. “The girls are all asleep, I’m supposed to make breakfast. Care for some pancakes to go with this coffee?”

“Why not. I’ll crash this slumber party.” Nick laughed, following Rafael out the door to his house.

There was a litter of shoes at the entryway, gift bags and small plates of unfinished cake cluttering the countertops. Through the kitchen, Rafael could see a pile of blankets and limbs poking through the blankets on the floor.

“Oh, to be a kid and sleep like the dead.” Nick said softly as he cleaned up the mess while simultaneously getting the fixings of breakfast going.

“ _Necesito tener una vida_.” Rafael muttered as he helped Nick load the dishwasher.

Nick heard. “ _Porque_?”

Rafael gestured at the sight of girls sleeping haphazardly. “ _Si este fuera cualquier otro escenario, esto se verìa como tràfico de personas_.”

Nick made a deliberate show of his shoulders slumping and his head lolling to the side as he processed what Rafael just said. His expression read “Dear God precisely how fucked up is your brain?” and “why did I admit to liking you again?”

“It’s best you don’t dignify that with a response.” Nick chuckled as he started making toast and fruit salad, pancakes and eggs.

“Need any help?”

“Uh,” he looked torn between asking a guest for help and letting Rafael just stand there and look dumb. “You can finish cleaning up the dining area, so the kids could sit somewhere.” So Rafael busied himself in trying to find a spot for the bags without it being too far to get to. He settled for the darkness of the corridor that led to what must’ve been Nick’s room.

“I assume your room is down that hallway?” Rafael brought it up before he could stop himself. Nick looked up from the food, an inscrutable gaze trained on his face.

“Yeah…” Nick put a bowl down, walking towards him, as if he was being pulled.

“I just figured, the layout of your home is virtually similar to mine…” Nick was in his space in an instant, Rafael’s curiosity on whether Nick slept with anything higher than a two-hundred thread count suddenly becoming insatiable.

Nick looked at the girls still sleeping in the living room, looked at the closed door to his room.

“In an alternate universe our counterparts would already be in there, making out like teenagers.” Nick sounded awfully calm, or at least that’s what Rafael could tell over the rush of blood through his brain.

“Doing that with children in the house? So scandalous.”

“You think you can be quiet?” Voice soft like cotton, he pressed his body against Rafael’s, kissing him. His lips were soft and sweet against his mouth. He couldn’t help letting a small groan of pleasure out. It sounded so loud and abrupt in the silence of the house, causing Nick to separate his mouth from Rafael’s to look to see if the coast was clear.

“To answer your question, no, I don’t think I could be quiet.”

Just the sheer thought of Rafael sounding like a loud and expressive lover made Nick’s pupils dilate with lust. “Okay, just… let me will this boner down.”

“Oh, that’s not your issued weapon poking me?”

“Raf, please, think of the kids.” Nick was suppressing laughter into Rafael’s shoulder, not wanting to part.

“I know, we should make like we’re not about to go in your room and rut like giraffes.” Nick squeaked, dissolving into giggles as he finally removed himself from Rafael, returning to the kitchen to finish breakfast.

The sounds of the girls stirring made Rafael scurry to the kitchen and make himself look normal. Were his clothes rumpled? His hair mussed? Did Nick leave kiss marks? Kids between the ages of ten to thirteen were deceptively observant and brutally honest and Rafael wasn’t in the mood to be roasted by children.

“Good morning,” Nick announced as the girls were awake and taking in the aftermath of their party. “Who wants pancakes?” Zara stood up, hair sticking out in odds and ends. “Oh, I should get my camera and immortalize this moment. You look like you stuck a fork in all of the sockets.”

Zara, realizing her father had company, shook her head wildly and hid behind one of her friends to look nice. “Daddy! You didn’t say you were going to have people over!”

“Dad can’t invite friends over for breakfast?” Nick extricated Zara from her friends laughing at her bedhead, giving over the top affection despite his daughters squawks of protest. “Aahaaha, you’re eleven now, that means eleven smooches.”

“You already gave me those!”

“Not in front of your friends. Your father must embarrass you.” Zara made a screech not unlike a fire alarm, but when Nick released her, an embarrassed smile was on her face.

“My dad does this all the time,” one of Zara’s friends piped up. “Who are you?” She noticed Rafael. He waved, trying to act casual.

“That’s my dad’s friend from New York. What are you doing here?”

“Ya, watch your tone, _querida_. I offered him Dad’s famous pancakes. Is that okay?” The girls filed to the dining table, squashed together waiting as Nick served them breakfast. The girls were still wiping sleep from their eyes, chugging orange juice and talking about various topics that neither adult men had any place in cutting into. They were hidden by the post in the kitchen, so the kids couldn’t see the way Nick was far too close to Rafael for it to just be friendly.

“Dad’s famous pancakes, huh?” Rafael didn’t move away from Nick’s warmth. 

“That’s the thing parents do: make something so many times you just call them famous. My mom did that all the time when she made breakfast for us. When my dad was in a good mood, he’d whistle Te Quedaràs in the kitchen, distract my mom by idly dancing with her while she cooked.” Nick bored his gaze into the sliding glass door, expression trained to be neutral.

“We could dance in the kitchen,” Rafael offered before this conversation got too personal.

Nick snorted, stabbing his pancake. “And scare the girls? That’d be a conversation I don’t want to explain to the parents. I haven’t even told Zara yet.”

“Well, aside from us being attracted to each other, what is there to tell?” It was 2018, and kids today seemed more open-minded with people dating the same gender. Zara seemed to be the type to roll with whatever was thrown her way; her dad dating a man would barely be a blip on her radar. But this tender thing unfurling between them was nearly a month old, and if Nick was promising that they’d go at Rafael’s pace, then it would be long until she entered high school that he would feel comfortable disclosing this infatuation. Assuming they’d stay together that long.

“Yeah,” Nick was done with his food, and was about to get ready to do the dishes again. “What are we?”

“Men in our forties.” Nick snorted, a fond smile stretching across his face. If anyone were to ask what was the proudest thing Rafael had ever done, he would say making Nick Amaro smile like that was something to take pride in.

“Yes, but, us-” Nick looked at the girls still in their deep Asian pop discussion, shutting out the grownups. “Us kissing like that, almost going to my room, going out to dinners, talking about traumatic childhoods…” His quiet voice was barely heard over the sound of the faucet.

“Oh that’s all you, baby, I'm not willing to share my tragedy porn,” Rafael tried to sound light-hearted, but flashbacks of the trial and his dad appeared in his mind, enough to make him flinch.

Nick noticed, of course. “You okay, Raf?”

“Sorry, just… it’s nothing.” But Nick shut off the faucet, turning to face him, because no, my friend whom I like to kiss, it wasn’t just nothing. “We’re going to leave it at that.”

“You can tell me anything, and there’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” Seeing him frown, Nick put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, ready to pull him into an embrace.

“Think of the kids, they might see.”

“Friends hug friends all the time.” Nick’s arm pulled Rafael to his side, gently placing a kiss against his forehead. “But what are we?”

“Too old to be called _boyfriends_.” The last word almost became a hiss, but someone at the table heard.

“Who has a boyfriend?” One of the girls asked loudly. Both men jumped, separating from each other.

“Uh, it better not be one of you girls,” Nick recovered. “You still have homework to do.”

“Emma says that J-Hope is her boyfriend.” One girl piped up. Another girl (this one must be Emma) swatted at her.

“J-Hope? Sounds like a street name. Is he in a gang? I should have one of my Detectives look into him.”

“ _Daaaaaddddd_ ,” Zara knew her dad was teasing. “We’ve been over this before.”

“I know, I know, he’s one of those Bangtan boys. I looked at his age; he’s old enough to be your dad.”

“No he’s not!” And that was enough for the girls to burst in indignation, roasting Amaro on the spot. Rafael laughed at Nick getting his ass handed to him on the subject of boy bands by kids, and Nick just let them.

“Note to self: do not try to tarnish the name of boy bands.” Nick said after he was finally released from the tirade, the girls going back to the living room and putting on another DVD.

“Ah, what’s it feel like to be annihilated by children?” Rafael smirked over his cup of coffee. The Sergeant was blinking rapidly, wide-eyed as he tried to process what just happened.

“Fantastic. Kids are awesome. My daughter is awesome. Seeing her grow up and become her own person? The greatest.” That fond smile returned, dazzling, and it felt like a sunflower being drawn to the sun.

“I like seeing you happy.” Rafael blurted out. Nick looked at him, the light bouncing off his eyes, making the dark brown look softer, more inviting. “I still have to get the idea of you being the disgruntled officer of the law out of my head. This makes my fondness for you seem justified.”

Nick cocked his head to the side, studying Rafael. “The disgruntled officer is still there,” he murmured. “He’s still… me. But I’m more than that.”

“I know. I’m sorry if I keep bringing this up.”

“We’re still catching up after three years. I want to show you more than what I was back then.”

“You are, and if anyone hasn’t told you lately: it’s great.”

“Hearing that from you, I’ll take it.” Nick finished his coffee, finished cleaning up, and when he was done, he led Rafael to the door, nearly tripping over the shoes. Rafael knew where this was going, he pressed Nick against the wall and slotted his lips over the taller man, tasting like coffee and citrus. He felt Nick cup the side of his face, holding him like his life depended on it, a drowning man being rescued from the water.

“God, you’re so hot.” Nick whispered, his thumb massaging Rafael’s pulse. “I could do this for hours.”

“What’s stopping you?” Rafael was enjoying the feel of Nick’s tongue spelunking the recesses of his mouth and would like the Sergeant to get back to doing that. Nick chuckled darkly, kissing him just as he was taking a breath, teeth gently nibbling at his lips, his tongue doing things that made Rafael’s toes curl. Someone was padding into the kitchen, and they parted, tried to look normal, but it was a lost cause; Nick was panting and his hair was looking like Zara’s. Rafael was smug, proud that he could make Nick unravel like that. If the kids were to peek around the corner and see them…

“I should get going.” he said.

“Yeah, thanks for coming over. Aren’t my pancakes the best?” Nick’s grin looked drunk, his lips swollen from the kissing.

“Pancakes a euphemism for something?”

“Maybe,” he looked like he wanted to keep Rafael here, continue this dalliance, children be damned.

“I’ll call you later. I should go finish up my closing arguments for court tomorrow.”

“See you. Catch up with you when the kids are back to their respective parents.” Rafael opened and closed the door behind him, lingering for a few seconds, before returning home.

Φ

They met up in brief intervals, their meetings sporadic and constantly interrupted by work and family. Rafael considered this good thing; if they were together for more than ten minutes he would be slamming Nick against any solid surface and kissing him like it were his last day on Earth. If he were a functioning person, he wouldn’t pursue courtship with a cop; it’s why he couldn’t let his feelings for Olivia grow past friendship. 

Now that they were not shying away from touches and sneaking kisses in dark corners of the house, they should probably put a label on the new status of their relationship. ‘Just a friend’ seemed too stale, but Rafael once dreamed of kissing Nick before leaving for work and saying "I love you" and he woke up to go wash his mouth out with soap. 

It was a good thing that he had cases to bury himself in, and the routine California wildfires in the far horizon to busy himself. His mother called, telling him that he's not allowed to burn in the flames. He assured her that his neighborhood, though right on the edge of the blazing radius, was not affected by the fire.

“I can see the smoke billowing in the distance,” Rafael told her. “I’m guessing at least thirty miles away? The closer I am to the water, the safer I’ll be.”

“Maybe you should have sprung for that two million dollar condo on the beach, it’s a small price for security.” Lucia insisted with a huff.

“Bold of you to assume I have that kind of cash just lying around.”

“My son is very frugal when he can be. What—the New York District Attorney’s Office never paid you fairly?”

“Yeah but not like that!”

“Enough money talk, it’s good that the fires are away from you. Will you still be flying back for Thanksgiving?”

“That’s a month off, but I will not miss it for the world.” Nick said he’d be in San Diego spending time with Gil and Cynthia for the holidays. It looked like he wanted to invite Rafael, but both agreed it was just too soon and too fast for that.

“Are you bringing anyone special?” His mother sounded sly on the phone.

“What makes you think I have the time to find a relationship?”

“ _Mijo,_ you took this job so you could take it easy and not bury yourself in your work. You’re supposed to be settling down, giving me grandchildren.” A small, invasive thought of telling her that the benefits of dating Nick came with pre-installed grandchildren came up, but Rafael knew he didn’t want to go down this conversation hole.

“I’m sorry my children are closing arguments and appeals. Such is my life.” Lucia grumbled at her son’s answer, but after determining her son was safe and not on fire, she promised to call later and hung up.

Nick was even busier with the threat of wildfires encroaching on the city. Turns out people just assume that the fires could hide all evidence and there had been a surge of gang shootings, robberies that led to murder, and attempted murders. Nick had a lot on his plate, so Rafael didn’t know when he was going to see him again.

When the threat of the wildfires died down in mid-October, then came the mudslides. Rafael was still safe, but the sludgy river of silt and mud flowing down the street by house was a close call. Some cars were carried away in the mess, causing blockades further down in the city. _Well that confirms I’m never getting a car._ He hoped, in all the chaos and natural disasters that hurled their fury onto the state, that Nick was okay.

  
  


Φ

He thought he would be escaping cases that frustrated him. Usually his clients wouldn’t be aloof and resigned to testify but now lately, the ones getting his legal aid were testing his patience. There was one, Travis Reynolds, who, at the insistence of his wealthy parents, tried to sweep his felony driving while intoxicated on a suspended license under the rug. But no matter how hard Rafael tried to cross-examine his client, plead with the prosecution for demanding extensive probation and mandatory therapy and rehab instead of prison time (this was his job; despite Rafael secretly thinking that Travis deserved to rot in prison because not only was this little shit a drunkard and a thrillseeker, he was probably soliciting minors, and if Rafael weren’t bound to attorney-client privilege he’d blow the whistle on this guy), Travis gave the prosecution plenty of ammunition to put this shitstain away in Fulson for five years. When Travis realized that his parents’ couldn’t buy their son out of incarceration, he became belligerent, striking Rafael and the bailiff as he was hauled away. Rafael just stood there, weeks of pent-up rage boiling inside and all he had the energy for was to curl his fists and endure the sting of the hit. Even as Mrs. Reynolds wailed at her only child being carried away and Mr. Reynolds called this an outrage and demanding that Barba do something, Rafael couldn’t look at them, his fury hunching his back and furrowing his brow as he stared intently at the table. He was frozen in rage, wondering why he let himself get caught up in this.

He barely remembered the follow-up meeting with the Reynolds couple and his bosses. He probably said something in response to Travis hitting him, but all he could see was red. Mr. Reynolds demanded that Rafael file a motion to appeal, and Gillis was trying to calmly explain the nature of the trial and that all the evidence gathered and presented wouldn’t be allowed for an appeal, but Travis’ parents wouldn’t hear it.

 _Look at yourselves_ , Rafael thought bitterly. _Your son was lucky that he only got five years. If that were me on the other side of the room, prosecuting, he’d be in there for twenty._ God, he wanted to say that to their faces, but until Travis was processed and the Reynolds paid their retainer fee, Rafael had to keep his mouth shut.

When the Reynolds eventually left to calm themselves and Rafael went through the motions of finishing up paperwork and having another meeting with Radler, he eventually left to go home. He didn’t even eat, only peeled off his suit in disgust and left it in the middle of the floor as he stumbled off to bed. His phone vibrated on the bedside table, and he could only surmise that it was Nick. Talking to him right now would bring up the events of the day and he knew it paled in comparison to Nick dealing with killers on a daily basis, he didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. He wondered if Nick would continue to call him, and after not picking up the Sergeant would come to his house, knock on the door and demand Rafael open up. And, should Rafael not open the door, Nick would find the spare key and let himself in. _Ah, let him_. Rafael might deck him. Or kiss him. Or both. He couldn’t make up his mind.

The phone rang for a third time, and Rafael looked at the screen. It was Nick. He almost answered it, but instead plugged his phone in, turned it face-down, and curled under the covers, forcing himself to sleep.

  
  


Φ

His mood hardly improved when he woke up at 3:30 AM again. He chanced a look at his phone: several missed calls from Nick, and a missed call from his mother. There were two voicemails and three text messages, all from Nick. Rafael hit Listen and leaned back into the pillow.

“ _Hey, Raf,”_ Nick’s voice was rougher over the phone, already making Rafael’s throat clench. “ _I wanted to see if you wanted to go out for dinner_ . _I had some free time for once, and I wanted to catch up, if you catch my drift_ .” Nick made this dry laugh in the receiver. “ _I hope your day was okay. Call me_.” And he hung up.

The next voicemail wasn’t Nick, but his mother. She spoke entirely in Spanish, but Rafael tuned it out. He’ll call her later. He looked at the text messages:

_Is everything okay? You’re not answering my calls. Are you busy?_

_Raf, do I need to come over_?

 _I’m getting nervous. There aren’t any suspicious cars on this street and there are no lights on in your house. Please tell me you didn’t collapse and die in there_.

Another text popped up; and it was Nick again. Oh yeah, he wakes up at this time on instinct anyway.

 _Raf, are you okay_?

It would be so easy to call Nick and say no, he wasn’t okay, but his throat felt clogged and if he were to talk he’d probably start crying. He felt so pathetic; he didn’t deserve Nick’s companionship. He pulled the pillow over his head and tried to shut out all of these negative thoughts. After forty-five minutes, Rafael finally summed up the courage to shoot off a text to Nick: _I’m fine, just tired. Don’t worry about me_.

 _How do I know this is the real Rafael Barba?_ Nick instantly texted back.

 _It’s me flaco, get some sleep_. Maybe Nick would use his cop instincts and leave him alone. To his luck, the texting stopped, and Rafael just laid there and waited for the sun to rise.

Maybe Nick would knock on his door in the guise of sharing some coffee before heading to work. Maybe he would demand he’d take Rafael to the office before heading to the precinct. Maybe Nick would call. Rafael strangely didn’t want that. But fates were kind to him, and Nick did neither of those things—maybe they found a body and required Nick’s trained eye and sleuthing skills early in the morning. Rafael got into his scheduled Uber without any word from him.

He put on a trained face and walked into the firm, ready to put that whole drama and his subsequent funk behind him. He was about to meet up with a future client when his phone rang again. It wasn’t Nick; it was a 917 number. Who would call him from New York that wasn’t Olivia or his mother?

“Hello?”

“Is this Mr. Barba?” It was a woman’s voice, and he couldn’t quite place who would know him.

“Yes, may I ask who is calling?”

A heavy, static breath. “It’s Maggie Householder.”

Rafael felt this morning’s coffee churning acid in his gut. He blanched. “Hello, Mrs. Householder.”

“You can just call me Maggie.”

“Yes—Maggie, how are you? How is—how is everything?”

“Fine, considering. I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday.” Rafael blinked. Birthday?

“Your birthday is the 24th of October, right?” It was, is today October 24th? Did he forget? How did she know his birthday, much less his phone number?

“It is. You’ll have to forgive me, I seem to have forgotten.” Rafael let out an uneasy laugh. “Thank you.” Maggie went on to babble how she remembered his birthday, and she didn’t mean to inconvenience him. “You didn’t inconvenience me. How are you?”

“I’m fine. I’m still… adjusting.”

“... We all are. I’m… trying to move on.” Was that wrong to say? “But I still think of Drew, and wondered what he’d be like if he wasn’t…” another intake of breath “... you know.

“Have you talked to Aaron?”

“He is struggling, but we’re getting by.” Maggie breathed hard. It sounded like she wanted to cry. “I just wanted to see how you were holding up, and wanted to wish you a happy birthday. Sorry to spring this on you, I know you didn’t want to hear from me.”

“No, no, it’s good to hear from you. Thank you so much for thinking of me.”

“I just want to thank you for… all your sacrifice. You’ve been through _so much_ for us. I can’t express my gratitude enough. I want you live a life free of guilt, full of happiness. I want you… to move on, Mr. Barba.”

How does one respond to that? Rafael ought to cry. “I… thank you, Maggie. I want you, and Aaron, to find some peace.” He said eventually. “I have to go. It was good talking to you.”

“You as well. Happy birthday, Mr. Barba.” She hung up after an uncomfortable pause.

Rafael stood there, trying to reel in his nausea, and when he felt himself swaying on his feet, he ran to the restroom and dry-heaved, cradling the bowl like his life depended on it. Whatever small solace he hoped for today was lost.

Φ

He didn’t get a call from Liv, and just a couple of texts from old colleagues in New York. He felt like he couldn’t get any productive work done, and after hours of mindlessly listening to a client who looked like they weren’t going to listen to his advice, Rafael was ready to jump out of a window. There was an attempt by fellow associates to wish him a happy birthday and take him out to lunch, but Rafael couldn’t find himself to eat. He knew he needed to eat something, so he let them drag him to this upscale bistro in the heart of Beverly Hills, hoping to pick his legal brain. If they could read the sour mood he was in, they sure ignored it, not taking his one-word answers or surly disposition as a final answer.

“How’d you find out it was my birthday?” Rafael asked, still not wanting to order anything. “Why would you even want to celebrate it?”

One of the associates, Jessica, a recent graduate from Berkeley Law School and one of the kinder ones, ordered some indulgent pasta dish for him and demanded he eat. “Can’t we just be nice to fellow lawyers, especially on their special day?”

Rafael snorted. “We’re lawyers, always willing to smell blood in the water. We always have ulterior motives.” The pasta smelled phenomenal, but he only moved it around his plate. Images of baby Drew swathed in tubes and monitors flashed in his mind, solidly settling in his stomach like it was a cinderblock.

Asher, who had been with the firm for a few years and was desperate to make partner, put his hands up in surrender. “He made us,” he admitted. “Rafael Barba is truly a force to be reckoned with. We’ve got to know how close you were to being the District Attorney of New York, and how far you’ve fallen to be some common defense attorney for the rich and stupid?”

“ _Maldito cristo_ ,” Rafael snarled, wanting nothing more than to throw this glass of sparkling water in Asher’s smug face. Decorum and years of dignity stayed his hand, and he shoveled pasta in his mouth as an answer. “This shit isn’t worth $42.” Is all he said. These two weren’t going to get a rise out of him. 

They went back to the office; Rafael taking a separate Uber and locking himself in his office until it was late. Before he left, he asked the receptionist what was a good bar to get absolutely shit-faced in. She told him of this bar three blocks away. “Precisely how trashed are you looking to get?”

“Fantastically trashed. Like, I don’t want to remember my name.”

“I’m coming with you!” The receptionist was making a way to grab her jacket and purse, but Rafael had already turned on his heel and walked out of the building. The bar was easy to spot, Rafael headed in, made himself comfortable, and ordered the most expensive bottle of scotch the owner had. _Some way to spend a birthday, eh Raf_? Rafael was determined to drown the voice in his head if it was the last thing he’ll do.

He was making wonderful progress on the array of cocktails (four down to be exact) when the door opened and Nick walked in, still wearing his holstered weapon and badge, clearly looking for him. He could immediately see that Rafael was in a slump, and his brow was settling into a scowl.

“How’d you know where I was?” Rafael’s voice wasn’t slurring yet, but he felt he could knock some glasses over.

“I went to your office. The receptionist told me she told you about this place. She wanted to tag along, because she said “I didn’t want Mr. Barba to get shit-faced all by himself.””

Rafael scoffed, swirling his shot glass. “I would make for a miserable companion here. I don’t even know her name. Or maybe I do, and I’m trying not to.”

“Her name is Melanie. She has a name plaque on her desk.”

“You do notice the details.” Rafael threw back a shot, signalling the bartender to pour him another.

“Have you had any water to pace yourself?” Nick asked for some water, this close to reprimanding the bartender for not giving him one as a courtesy.

“What? A man can’t get trashed on his special day?”

Nick looked kinda guilty, and now Rafael felt like shit for making him feel like that. “I’ve been meaning to call,” he started, looking down. “I just, my work is…”

“No, no, you don’t need to explain.” Now Rafael really felt bad for his earlier behavior, blowing off Nick and not wanting him. God, did he mention he was pathetic and undeserving? “I understand, you deal with awful horrors. The job comes first.” And he meant that, he genuinely understood that Nick was committed to solving unfathomably horrible crimes and had to face them with a keen eye.

“It was, it was three kids…”

“Jesus, Nick, come here.” Rafael grabbed Nick by the arm and forced him to sit down next to him. He put a reassuring arm around the Sergeant’s shoulders, pulling him closer, feeling his warmth. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mean to unload on you, it’s just been a rough couple of days.”

“Same, though I bet mine pales in comparison to yours.”

Nick looked at him, and Rafael bet the two of them look rather strange, tangled up like that by the bar. The bartender is surely getting a good view. “You look like something’s _haunting_ you.” Jesus, he could tell. “I only saw that look when… when Zara asked if you ever killed a man.”

How in the fuck did Nick remember that far back, remember such a minor blip in time? “What the-”

“Are you in trouble Raf, do you need me to-”

“If you’re considering risking your future in the LAPD for me, you will stop right there,” Rafael warned. “Plus, I’m not in trouble, just, my fucking Catholic guilt raging in waves I haven't felt in months.”

“What is it?”

“You wouldn’t like it.”

“Raf, I care about you, more than you are willing to allow. I’ve thought about every possible horror you could hide from me and none of it could diminish my attraction to you.”

Rafael’s heart swelled, or maybe the alcohol is doing weird things to his body. He removed himself from Nick, hiding his face in his hands.

“Ugh, I feel awful.”

“You can tell me anything.”

“We should probably leave, I don’t think I want anyone else to hear.” Nick made a move to grab his wallet, but Rafael stopped him and paid. “My tab would be too high for you.”

“Nonsense, let me pay.”

“It’s like, two hundred dollars.” Nick blinked.

“The fuck?”

“Happy birthday to me. This city is wildly expensive.” Rafael threw down cash, probably gave the bartender too high of a tip, and walked out the door with more stability than he thought. The night air was still warmer than what he’s used to, but the wind still carrying the slight scent of something burning, gave him some clarity.

Nick led him to the car, opened the door for him, and got in the driver’s seat. He drove them back to the neighborhood.

“There’s a water bottle in the back, if you need it.”

“I don’t want my bladder to be fit to burst. Not unless you want to pull over and watch me relieve myself in public.”

“Rafael Barba wouldn’t be caught committing a misdemeanor in front of a police officer,” the beginnings of a smirk were creeping on Nick’s face, softening the scowl.

“She called me.”

“Who? Liv?”

“No, Maggie Householder.”

“Am I supposed to know who that is?” Rafael’s mouth was set into a thin line, almost as if he wanted to vomit.

“She’s the mother of Drew Householder. He’s… I think he would have been a year old in July?” Nick glanced at Rafael for the briefest second before focusing on driving.

“A mother who buried her child? Did you help her find out who killed him?”

“No… yes, I…”

“Who killed him?” At Rafael’s silence Nick almost slammed the brakes.

“What the fuck.”

It was so easy to explain at the trial, and Nick was a good listener, but the words were lodged in his throat. Without breath, his tongue fluttered in vain.

“Raf, what did you—” now Nick looked like he wanted to vomit, but went through the motions of driving before he caused an accident. “Please explain, I’m jumping to conclusions, am I?”

“I…”

“Raf!”

“Please don’t hate me.”

“Tell me who killed him!”

“Oh God…” Nick pulled over to a parking lot by the beach. “This is nowhere near home, what are you…” Nick got out of the car and Rafael followed him.

“Rafael,” Nick sat down on a bench, and he sat beside him. “Who killed the baby?”

Rafael took a deep intake of the salty air, letting the crash of the waves calm him, and he explained the whole thing. The whole trial, the guilt he felt when asked if he regretted pulling the plug on the baby. He felt like he was outside of himself, retelling the horrors of the decision like it he read about it.

“There was a trial?” Nick sounded so far away, disconnected. There was so much he had missed in New York. “Rafael, no one told me.”

“I don’t think it made the news.”

“Liv, she tells me everything, but…”

“There are some things that even she can’t explain over the phone.”

“But, you’ve been here for four months, and never told me. Why?”

“C’mon, you’re-” _A father and extremely Catholic, despite not diligently attending Mass_. But Nick was an apparent mind reader.

“I was afraid you would hate me even more.”

“I was fearing the worst. I thought I was crushing hard on a child murderer. I thought you snapped and somehow got away with it.”

“I feel as if I did. I know, no one believes that I was wrong to ease a child’s suffering, but I can never erase the decision. I don’t feel like I deserved a new start.” Nick didn’t answer. “If you hate me, I understand. We could go our separate ways.” But Nick shook his head.

“No, I couldn’t fathom that. Raf,” Nick cradled his face in his hands, holding him with such tenderness, that Rafael could cry. He kissed him on the forehead, and a tear did spill. “I could never hate you. Never could, never will.” He pulled Rafael into his chest, holding him a close as he could despite the awkward angle. Now Rafael couldn’t bear it any longer; the alcohol making the floodgates open and he bawled into Nick’s jacket, holding him tightly. Nick just held him, rubbing his back until he calmed down.

“God, I’m an idiot.” Rafael sniffled, afraid to separate himself from Nick in case his face looked disgusting. “I can’t believe I let myself get so pathetic.”

Nick let him bury his face into his chest. “We can be pathetic together. You don’t hate me after paralyzing Yusef, for beating up Wilkins after he got off-”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, despite us knowing that technically yes, you did, you’re not wrong. You’re not.” Rafael’s breath evened out. “I was this close to visiting you in the clink and shaking your hand for beating the fucking tar out of him.” Nick laughed, shaking them both. After a few moments of Rafael wiping his face and making sure he was back to normal, Nick helped him up and walked him back to the car.

“Some birthday huh,” Rafael rubbed his eyes as he buckled himself back in.

“There could be worse ways to celebrate turning forty-four.” Nick backed up and resumed driving.

Rafael stared at him. “Just how much do you know about me?”

“An astonishing amount. Now, it’s still the 24th here, is there anything I can do to make your day feel special?”

A pause, then: “I don’t want to be alone tonight.” Nick had an unreadable look in his eyes, the glow of the green light giving him an otherworldly look. He drove off.

  
  


Φ

Rafael still thought that this was too fast, too much. He didn’t think they should even be going to bed together. Not that he hadn’t thought about it, an embarrassing amount, but this wasn’t the right night for it. Or it was, and Rafael is just too chickenshit.

Nick pulled into Rafael’s driveway, and let Rafael lead him into the house. When they got inside, he felt Nick pull him back into his embrace, kissing him.

“I bet I taste like the entire liquor shelf,” Rafael grimaced.

“It’s not so bad, I’ve had worse tastes in my mouth.”

“Nick, I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“I know, I don’t either.” Nick kissed him again, softly, sweet against his mouth.

“But I don’t…” He’s forty-four, why can’t he say it?

“It’s been a rough day, we can just rest. Your bedroom is this way?” Nick led him down the hall, despite the darkness, and turned on the bedroom light. Aside from a couple of law books on the lying on the floor, everything was neat, impersonal. Rafael went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth, gargled his mouth out with mouthwash, washed his face. He handed Nick a spare toothbrush and gave him some space to clean up as he changed out of his suit. He pulled on some sleep pants and one of his Harvard shirts, well-worn and raggedy, but still comforting.

When Nick came out, he did a double-take. “I have never seen you wear anything more casual than a polo.” He said. “I should take a photo and send it to Liv.”

“And what would she think?”

“Would probably be more surprised by your sleepwear than me being in your bedroom in the dead of night.” Rafael laughed, tried to play it cool as Nick casually took off his suit in front of him until he was in nothing more than an undershirt and boxers. He looked so hot it was unfair. Nick placed his gun and badge on the bedside table, sat on the bed and shifted himself until he was close to Rafael, wrapping his arms around him.

“Nick?”

“Hmm?” Nick looked so soft and loving in the low light of the bedside lamp.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being here.” The Sergeant smiled, went to bury his face into the pillow, but remembered something.

“Almost forgot.” He jumped out of bed and reached into his jacket pocket, fishing out a small wrapped box.

“You didn’t have to get me a gift.”

“I got it in August.”

“You bought something for me that long ago?” Now Rafael felt inadequate as a.... What is he to Nick?

“I saw it at the mall, and it made me think of you.” He watched Rafael carefully unwrap it, a little nervous.

It was a pocket square. Orange silk speckled with golden thread, it felt luxurious underneath his fingers. “What the fuck?” But it was a good what the fuck, Rafael was grinning toothily, pleased as punch.

“Is it bad?”

“No, it’s gorgeous. I… didn’t know you had any fashion sense.” Now Nick laughed, dissolving into giggles. He graciously let Rafael embrace him, the aura of peace radiating throughout his entire body. “I love it.”

“A distinguished lawyer like yourself could never have too many.” He kissed him, tasting the toothpaste in his mouth. " _Feliz cumpleaños, Rafael_ ," The fatigue of the day was wearing on them both; the amount of caffeine Nick consumed was making him crash and the alcohol in Rafael was forcing his eyelids closed. Rafael turned to turn off the lamp and got comfortable. It’s been too long since anyone has ever held him like this, made him feel...

“Nick?” Rafael whispered.

“The way you say my name,” Nick’s voice was rough, and in the dark, it felt like a hand caressing his face.

“What about it?”

“It makes me sound like your lover.” He said it so plainly, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Rafael’s face found comfort in the space of Nick’s collar. He breathed in the scent of his skin. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I suppose it does.”

Φ

Rafael barely registered a phone ringing, and was barely awake when he felt Nick shift to answer it. He heard him speak, his voice rougher from being roused from sleep. It must be work.

“Amaro. Kimura, you’re still up? You found a lead? Where’s Reyes?” Kimura must’ve said something, for Nick was out of the bed and getting into his clothes once more. Rafael made an ungracious moan at the sudden loss of contact and when Nick turned on the lamp.

“Text me the location and I’ll be there.” Nick hung up and finished dressing. Rafael was up, looking at the time on his phone. 3:15 AM.

“Earlier now, a new record,” he stifled a yawn.

“Sorry to wake you.” Nick put on his holster and grabbed his badge.

“It’s inevitable. What’s fifteen more minutes?” Rafael made a move to sit up, and smiled as Nick walked over to his side of the bed to kiss him.

“See you later?”

“Don’t get shot.”

Nick scoffed. “So romantic,” he said, and had the courtesy to turn off the lamp before he headed out. Rafael rolled over to the space that contained Nick, and laid there until his residual warmth evaporated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a long, convoluted, misshapen chapter. whoops.  
> I uh, actually meant for this chapter to be longer, to end on a significantly different tone, but I felt that it would just be too big of a shift and needed to wait next chapter. Which hopefully won't take that long because I know precisely what's to happen.  
> I don't know why I reach for angst when I clearly can't grasp that shit
> 
> here's a game to play at home with the family: take a shot for every time I write What the Fuck


	7. i'm going to wake up and all of this is from my imagination

Φ

  
  


The next day, Rafael took a personal day. Feeling like he couldn't face his colleagues after his surly and uncouth attitude, he needed to actually feel what it was like to sleep in and venture into the second part of his house.  _ I’m owed that much, at least _ . After rescheduling with his clients, he called Olivia. It was past noon in New York; she would be in the field perhaps, or maybe it was a slow day and no one was out assaulting innocent people, which was a good thing. She would be dawdling on paperwork and probably scolding Sonny for not holding his tongue.

“You finally called,” she answered after the third ring; he could hear the fond smile in her voice. “I thought you forgot about me.”

“I could never forget about you, Benson. How are you?”

“Oh, you know,” it said so many things, and Rafael didn’t need to pressure her for details to know that she’s endured another slew of chaotic events. “I’m doing endurance training; I’m supposed to meet with my trainer in an hour.”

“A slow day at the precinct?”

“Blessedly. How are things over in California?”

“California is nice, I’ve really only been to the office, a few restaurants, one theater.”

“This is not the Rafael Barba I know, you would be mucking up with anyone who owned several yachts, having fancy parties in the McMansions in Beverly Hills. You’re supposed to be living it up.”

“I guessed I got caught up in work.”

“That’s not like you at all. You didn’t even have a grand birthday bash yesterday?”

“You’re going to be mad-- I didn’t even  _ know _ it was my birthday.” He could see Olivia gape, shaking her head.

“You’re working yourself to death,” she said. “You need to  _ live _ , go on extravagant day trips, take a spontaneous European vacation. I’m supposed to live vicariously through you, Raffa.”

Rafael chuckled, already feeling good as new hearing Olivia telling him how he should live his life.

“Did you have a good birthday, though? I’m sorry I didn’t call; a case came up.” Rafael understood; serving justice and solving crimes were more important than sending half-hearted happy birthday texts. “You helping others is more important than me,” he said, and he could hear her try to deny it, but he stopped her. “It was fine, it wasn’t much fuss. Nick gave me a pocket-square.” He would not mention that he and Nick were spooning in the dark, proclaiming their attraction and the transformation of their relationship.

“Oh, he finally gave that to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I talked to him recently, but this was back in August. He was taking his kids back-to-school shopping, and he saw this store, and saw the pocket-squares, and instantly thought of you. He showed me photos and kept asking “You think he would like it?” I told him to just shove it in your mailbox or something if you were too scared to see his reaction.” Rafael was so glad he wasn’t on a video call with Olivia so she couldn’t see him blush furiously and fall to the floor because his being literally couldn’t take the sudden swell of emotions.  _ This guy, this mysterious friend, is really too cute _ .

“Oh really?” Rafael trained his voice to sound casual. “Amaro caring about what I think of him?”  _ Here’s what I think: I’m so goddamned fond of him I’m drowning in fondness, what the hell _ .

“Yes, he does care about what you think of him.” Olivia sounded serious. “Last last time you saw him, things were spiraling out of control and he could tell that his friends pitied him. Nick may have a new precinct to supervise, a whole new A.D.A and squad of Detectives to talk to, but he doesn’t interact with anyone outside of work. From what he’s told me, you’re the only friend he’s made since he’s moved.”

“That’s…” Unhealthy, and Rafael ought to be concerned, but he was in the same predicament, and had no desire to change his circumstances. “Well, he’s friends with his daughter’s parents, I think, and he keeps in touch with families who have lost a loved one. And there’s his partner.”

“No parent is friends with their child’s friend’s parents,” Olivia ought to know, she is one. “And a partner in the field really is just a partner; Cristina is too young to really connect with, so Nick claims. They work well as a team, but Cristina’s interests outside of work are too extreme for Nick, or maybe just too young for him. His devotion to his children doesn’t sync with her lifestyle. She's eager to transfer to Major Crimes, or looking to go into the FBI, so he has told me." Rafael knew Nick had a life separate from his, and now he wanted to know everything about everyone Nick knew. A nasty invasive thought to have, but it was there, and he'll admit it if anyone asked.

"Nick still doesn't believe that he deserves a second shot, thinks that his position is just a dream that he will wake up from. I wish I was there to help, to reassure him that he is a good cop and his hard work is appreciated in the LAPD. These calls from across the country only do so much.” At Rafael’s silence, Olivia added: “Are you being nice to him?” He snorted.

“Is he being nice to you? You two aren’t going at it like old times?” Even now, Rafael could see Olivia’s sly grin materialising in his mind, like she knows.

“No, he’s changed, from what I could tell. I haven’t seen him in the field or at the precinct, because I don’t go to the headquarters, I usually go to nearby precincts, you know I’m not the A.D.A here.”

“I know, it’s hard to forget. You’re now supposed to be the guy that I  _ hate _ ,” Olivia chuckled. “So, have you been catching up with Nick?”

Catching up is putting it lightly. Rafael wanted to tell her. How easy and liberating it would have been for him to tell her how he was crazy for Nick Amaro. If it weren’t for him living here, Rafael would have left a month ago. How thankful and relieved he felt when Nick didn’t think less of him after the news of the trial. How he knows what the roof of his mouth feels like against his tongue, the rough scratch of his stubble against his skin. Telling her everything would just be--

“Wait, what did you say?” Olivia asked. What did Rafael say? Was he talking without realizing it?

“What did I say?”

“It sounded like you said you were seeing someone.” Fuck, did Rafael say it out loud?

“I,” how much did he say? “I am.”

“Certainly didn’t waste any time, eh? Is she a lawyer too? Thought you didn’t tangle with those in the same profession.”

Oh, she didn’t know then. Rafael breathed a sigh of relief. “No,” he laughed nervously. “I’m not dating a lawyer. The people at my office are assholes.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Hey.”

“Is she nice?” If Rafael could just open his mouth and say that he dates anyone within the gender spectrum and that she was the only woman for him but that would open up so many cans of worms…

“They’re nice. They’re patient. We’re friends, but there’s something more there that we’re just taking it one day at a time.”

“How’d you guys meet? Now I want to fly down to meet the one who snagged Rafael Barba.”

“I can’t be snagged, they’re a neighbor.” Was that giving it away too much?

“Oh! Does Nick know them?” Good to see Olivia picking up on the ambiguous pronouns.

Images of Nick embracing him in bed and giving him comfort flashed in his brain. “You could say that,” He said finally. “Nick introduced me to them. They live across the street.”

Maybe Olivia, the best in her craft at finding the actual answer, already knew what Rafael couldn’t say. Maybe she pieced it in her mind and it was dawning on her right now. But she chose not to put Rafael on the spot and force him to admit more details. She played the charade. “Well, I hope everything goes well with you and…”

“Liam?”

“Oh, a man?” Olivia was sounding polite, but failing desperately at masking her surprise.

“Who’s to say?” Now Rafael was tail-spinning. “We just click, y’know?”

“That’s good,” and he still breaks out into sweat when one person accepted another for who they are. “I’m genuinely happy for you, Raffa. You are my dear friend and I want the best for you.” She’s smiling, he could feel her warmth through the receiver.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “That means a lot, coming from you.”

“I mean it. But, make sure Nick doesn’t get too distraught over you dating.”

“What?”

“I mean, Fin and I were thinking that he and Amanda were a thing, although those two were chaotic forces that butted heads too much. But Nick was my partner, and I’ve noticed, many times, that he would give you these lingering looks, more than he would give Amanda. He’s the one who would get in your face the most, no? I wasn’t sure if he was going to deck you or drag you into the men’s bathroom and…” If she continued her sentence Rafael couldn’t hear because he slammed the phone on the counter and was debating on screaming into his shirt or out the window.

“Raffa? You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine!” Rafael put the phone back to his face. “I, I never caught that. Didn’t think Nick was into anyone but Amanda or his ex-wife.”

“We thought that too. Then Fin up and asked me out of the blue: ‘you think Amaro wants to bone Barba?’ You know how Fin talks.”

Rafael was going to die right there in his kitchen. He hoped, at least as he sank to the floor in emotional agony, that his spirit would haunt the SVU precinct until the building was torn down.

“You alright there, Raffa?”

“You can’t just say these things so casually! How am I supposed to look at Amaro now?”

“The same? Maybe we were just looking at things too hard and desperate to see things that weren’t there? Pretend that I didn’t bring it up. I don’t want to ruin things between you and Liam.” Who? Oh, right.

“You won’t, I’m sure. Well, I should probably let you go. Go do your endurance training. Give my regards to the squad, punch Fin for me, hug Noah.” Olivia laughed, said that she would, and after saying their goodbyes, hung up.

_ I have a lot to unpack here _ , Rafael thought, thinking that the coolness of his kitchen floor was helping with the surge of his emotions. When he felt that his legs could support him, he got up and went to catch up on emails, distract himself from catching an Uber to Nick’s precinct and finding him and kissing him into oblivion.

  
  
  


Φ

  
  


Seeking courtship with a cop, especially one who served the busiest city in America, was destined to fail. If Rafael had any sense, he would sever ties with Nick immediately, and maybe would actually find him a Liam to date. But Nick was different, unbelievably patient and just happy to talk to Rafael, reinforcing that their friendship wouldn’t wane, should they eventually drift apart. Nick had shifts that lasted for seventy-two hours, and was only available to have discreet calls that lasted moments before Rafael had to return to work.

“You’ll be seeking an early grave if you keep this up,” Rafael told him once, debating if he should send Nick some late-night dinner at the precinct, but Nick refused.

“The adrenaline of putting all the clues together and getting confessions is what sustains me.” Nick joked. He and another Detective--Reyes, he said-- were putting together the timeline of the crime and Kimura was with the Lieutenant looking for a suspect. They were running on hour forty-six before all leads ran cold.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to send anything for you guys?”

“Reyes is eating like, his third burger, seriously, where does all that food go? He’s a fucking twig. I’m fine, thank you.” Fondness seeped into his tone, so warm and soft.

“If you insist.”

“I appreciate you looking out for me.”

“I know you’re in the safety of the precinct, but please get home safe.” California was still battling the wildfires, and even in the darkness the plumes of smoke were still visible.

“Are you home?”

“Got home an hour ago. I was going to make something with asparagus. I have a deposition to go over.”

“Don’t let me keep you.” But Nick sounded like he didn’t want to hang up.

“I’m keeping you from doing your job. Will I be seeing you?”

“Probably not tonight, but Wednesday is Halloween, and even though it’s the craziest night, it’s also a night where no one gets murdered. I’ll be resting.”

“That’s good, you need rest.”

“Come over. It’s been a while since we’ve caught up.”

“I’ll make time for it, I suppose.” But Rafael was already counting down until when he was able to see Nick again. He figured that these feelings were just going to keep occurring and to let it take its course.

Wednesday took its time getting here, and when Rafael thought he was never going to be finished with work, the last of the papers have been signed, his clients all settled and a court date rescheduled due to the judge’s house catching fire, Rafael took an Uber home. Even as the sky was graying from the smoke in the distance, there were children dressed up, eagerly knocking on doors and grabbing fistfuls of candy. Rafael forgot to buy candy, much less decorate his house. He made sure his front door wasn't illuminated and changed out of his suit before heading to Nick's house. 

Nick was supposed to be resting, comfortable, but when he opened the door he was dressed as if he just left the precinct, and in a cape that was fraying at the edges. There was a pair of fake plastic fangs in his mouth, almost too small for him.

“What? You don’t dress up for trick-or-treaters?” Nick asked when he realized Rafael was judging his outfit.

“I haven’t dressed up for Halloween since rush week,” Rafael noted the small line of red food coloring staining Nick’s lower lip to emulate blood. He was this close to leaning in and licking it off.

“Ah, you’re missing out.” Nick moved aside to let Rafael in. “Zara’s out trick-or-treating with her friends, dressed as an archer. I wanted to go with them, but my leg has been bothering me, and I didn’t want to slow the kids down. Chloe's parents are chaperoning. I’ll settle for handing out candy.” Rafael sat down on the couch, Nick going into the kitchen to pour them some coffee.

“Did you ever find your suspect?”

“Which one?” Nick handed him a mug of coffee, the words “THIS IS MY SECOND TIME TURNING 40” painted in bold font on the cup.

“I suppose the one that had you at the precinct late at night.”

“Yeah, she confessed. That was a fun six hours in the box.” Nick looked down at the coffee table; Rafael following his line of vision. There was a thick tome of a book resting on the glass, far too big and textbook-like to be considered leisure reading, unless Nick was into reading educational material for fun.

“What’s this?” Rafael saw the words ‘victim’s rights’ in the sea of words on the page.

“Work-related,” was all Nick said, swallowing coffee before getting up to answer the door, grabbing the bowl of candy on the counter. Rafael sat, content with watching whatever Nick had on TV. There was a marathon of old black-and-white movies on; supposedly horror films.

“Didn’t peg you to be a horror movie fanatic.” Rafael remarked as Nick sat back down, reaching for the leg brace that slid on the floor.

“Well, it’s the perfect night to watch some classics, no?” Nick smiled as he wrapped the brace around his knee.

“How bad does it hurt?”

“Just a dull throb; it irritates more than it hurts. I’ll be fine.” Nick had to be lying. He was a person who wouldn’t want anyone to worry about him. Rafael thought about rubbing the knee, but as he was sitting to Nick’s right, and the left leg was bothering him, it would go over terribly.

“Enough about me, how have you been? I haven’t seen you since I left in the wee hours of the morning last week.” Nick leaned back, tangling his fingers with Rafael’s as a reflex.

Rafael smiled at the contact, happy to just be in Nick’s presence. “Man, why did I become a defense attorney again? I hate it. I want to punch myself in the face in court sometimes.”

“Are you not doing well at it?”

“No, I’m doing  _ too _ good of a job. I just feel like garbage, like my soul is withering away every time I ask a question on behalf of the defense that derails the prosecution."

"You took an oath to defend anyone and everyone, and it's in the Constitution, no?"

"Yeah, but I want to help the truly defenseless, the ones that have no voice, not ones with the deepest pockets. That's why I studied law."

"You'd do great with immigration law. There's plenty of need for those with the whole border crisis and children separation," Nick offered, getting up again to answer the door for more trick-or-treaters. He was at the door for a while; must be a bunch of kids at the front.

Nick eventually returned, dumping the bag of candy into the bowl. "Yeah, I think you would be a fantastic immigration attorney. Very surprised that you weren't in the first place."

"Radler & Gillis are known for suing corporations for violations and also investigating election fraud. I thought I would make myself a seat at the table, lending help, but I thought, after the trial, I was too… no, I wasn't  _ worthy  _ of fighting the good fight, if that makes any sense."

"You feel as if you're unworthy of going after what you want. I still feel that way too." Nick went back to the door again to hand out more candy. "Might as well bring a stool over and sit by the door, huh?" Rafael followed Nick to the front door, carrying two kitchen stools.

"I still feel as if I don't deserve this position. I feel like I'm going to wake up and all of this was my imagination."

"It's not, it's all real," Rafael smiled softly as a couple of kids filed to the door, Nick giving generous helpings of candy. "You trying to give them cavities?"

"I'm in cahoots with the Big Dental Lobby," Nick joked, popping the plastic fangs back in. "I loved Halloween as a kid, my sisters would paint their faces and we'd try to walk to the outskirts of the Bronx to get the most candy. I was a cowboy for like, four years in a row? Then a police officer until I was too old to trick-or-treat. Watched all of these vampire-themed telenovelas with my  _ abuela _ , read every scary story from the library. Even as we grow older and the mysticism of Halloween waned, there’s this little tinge of magic that I feel on this night. It’s silly, isn’t it?” Nick rubbed the back of his head, embarrassed.

“I’m more of an Arbor Day man myself,” Rafael joked, and Nick threw his head back, laughing. “No, there’s nothing silly in believing in magic. Makes you human.” He took Nick’s hand again, kissed his knuckles. The Sergeant’s fingers twitched, his fanged smile turning lopsided, genuine. “Makes you endearing.”  _ Makes you lovable _ . Every layer of Nick’s being slowly revealed, exposing the vulnerability, the tenderness; his faults being dwarfed by his humanity. Opening up to Rafael was a sign that Nick wanted him in his life.

The trickle of children waned, and after thirty minutes of waiting for more kids to show up, Nick closed the door and went back to the living room. He and Rafael got comfortable on the couch as the film rolled the credits and the channel was preparing to show  _ The Omen _ . Rafael picked out a piece of candy from the bowl and started to unwrap it, but Nick plucked it from his fingers. “Nuh uh,” he teased, “trick-or-treat?”

“Oh come on,” Rafael scoffed, reaching for the candy, but Nick’s long reach was beyond his grasp. If he leaned any further he would topple into Nick’s lap. Nick lightly taunted him with a sing-song voice, mischief lighting his eyes and the plastic fangs clicking in his mouth. “Ugh,  _ dulce o travesura _ .”

“And who are you dressed as?”

“An Arborist disgruntled by the HOA and zoning laws for cutting down perfectly good trees in the neighborhood,” Nick’s laugh rumbled within his chest, and handed him the candy. He wrapped his arm around Rafael and pulled him close, Rafael leaning his head against Nick’s shoulder, indulging in the candy, taking in the old movie like this was some proper date.

“Have you ever seen this movie?” Nick whispered into Rafael’s hair.

“I don’t think I was even born when this came out.” Rafael looked at the contents of the candy bowl. “Low turnout in this neighborhood?”

“Maybe the kids are being driven to the richer neighborhoods that hand out full bars.” Nick looked at his watch. “Zara is supposed to be here by nine; she’s got twenty minutes.”

“Should I make myself scarce?”

“Why? I want you to stay.” Nick pulled him closer into his shoulder. He trailed light kisses from Rafael’s forehead, each kiss growing in intensity until he made it to Rafael’s mouth, tongue darting past his lips. A switch flipped in Rafael’s brain, where the feel of Nick’s mouth unleashed a surge of lust Rafael wasn’t aware he had in him. The next thing he knew, he was pinned underneath Nick, feeling the last vestiges of the caramel being scraped from his mouth. His plastic fangs mangled in his mouth; he felt Nick’s fingers pull them out of the way before returning back to his lips. The cape shielded any prying eyes from seeing Rafael grab Nick’s ass to press his groin close, feeling the Sergeant harden against him.

Rafael broke for breath. “That’s not a gun,” he said, breathless, chuckling when Nick popped the fangs back in.

“Vampires don’t need guns,” the fangs nipped at his neck, Rafael craning his neck to give Nick better access. The sounds of Lee Remick being terrorized on screen were jarring compared to Nick’s heavy pants and the pounding pulse in his ears.

The sound of a faraway door lock sliding and clicking out of place snapped them out of their reverie. Nick jumped up as if he’d been tased, Rafael scrambling to look like he wasn’t two seconds from pulling his dick out.

Zara bounded in, oblivious to the charged sexual energy brewing in the living room. Her pillow case was bulging with her candy haul.

“Ah, you’ve returned. You didn’t eat too much tonight, I hope?” Nick enveloped his daughter in a hug while reaching for a towel to wipe her makeup off.

“Had another bag of candy but I was going to go the distance. I ate so much I got a type of diabetes they haven’t invented yet.” Zara cracked, and Rafael laughed.

“Ah, you’re such a ham.” Nick chuckled. “Say hello to my guest.”

“Hi, Mr. Barba. It’s still weird seeing my dad with friends.”

“Hello. Did you have a lot of fun?” And Rafael listened with rapt attention as Zara told them about their trick-or-treat exploits. She was witty and excitable, going on long tangents that even as an experienced lawyer Rafael got lost, but he enjoyed her stories.

“Okay, did you thank the Rasmussens for taking you out?”

“I did, dad, you know I wasn’t raised by wolves.”

“Hah! You could’ve fooled me. C’mon, shower and brush your teeth, I’ll tuck you in when you’re done.” He shooed her off to get ready for bed, the air between them softened by the presence of a child.

“I suppose I should get back home…” Rafael was on his way to the door, but Nick stopped him.

“No, no, the night’s still young, we haven’t spent that much time together.” And Nick was in Rafael’s space again, billowing the cape around them. He kissed him softly. “She falls asleep fast and is a heavy sleeper.” He muttered.

“What?”

“The movie isn’t over, let’s continue watching it.” They sat back down, keeping a respectable distance between them in case Zara wandered in the living room claiming to look for something. Rafael took a swig of his now-cold coffee. They heard the sound of the shower being turned on, and Nick kissed him, his tongue lazier against Rafael’s, his kisses unhurried, as if there was no fear of being discovered by his kid. Rafael felt himself closing the gap between them once more, his fingers cupping the side of Nick’s jaw, massaging the fluttering pulse.

They shouldn’t be doing this, not when Zara was wide awake and only feet away from their tryst. For God’s sake, Nick’s kids sit here and watch cartoons, and here they were, making out on it like mischievous teenagers. The sound of the water running spurned Rafael on. When they parted, Nick’s pupils were dilated, his lips swelling. Rafael’s hand unbeknownst to him traveled down to the fly of Nick’s pants. His fingers felt the tip of his cock threatening to tent the crotch of his pants.

“Raf,” Nick breathed, and let out a low hiss when Rafael cupped him through the fabric, softly feeling the ridges of his erection. “God, don’t stop,” he whispered when the older man massaged his cock, his hips moving involuntarily. The crescendo of the movie’s music, the charged air of this night, Nick spreading his legs even wider to accommodate Rafael between them. Rafael couldn’t stop himself from sinking from the couch, unzipping the fly and pulling Nick from his pants, confronted with another man’s cock for the first time in a dozen years.

He wished he could sit back and revel in the sight of Nick exposed like this--he’s dreamed about this on and off-- but they were on borrowed time and Zara could come out of the bathroom any minute now. Her shower should be wrapping up. His tongue swirled around the tip, nearly recoiling when Nick jerked, groaning into his hand. His eyes were wide, watching Rafael intently as he experimented with sucking and getting a good rhythm going and trying not to gag.

The sound of the shower cut off and Rafael froze, Nick halfway in his mouth. Nick was struggling to remain composed and was debating if he should tuck himself back in, but Zara’s toothbrush could be heard through the door. Rafael hoped that he was hidden from the hallway view. Braver, one hand reached to stroke Nick, his tongue finding the vein and kissing it, licking up and down on the bell-end of his cock, his saliva drooling out of his mouth. Fuck, he wasn’t good at this, Nick deserved a better blowjob than what he’s giving. Rafael couldn’t control his teeth scraping Nick’s cock, and he was about to pull off and apologize, but Nick’s hand was clenching Rafael’s hair, keeping him in place.

“Fuck, Raf,” Nick sighed, his eyes taking the sight of Rafael on his knees, his mouth straining around his girth, tongue tracing every vein in his dick. “Don’t stop--”

The door to the bathroom opened, the damp smack of footsteps against the hardwood. Rafael’s heart seized and he needed to extricate Nick’s dick from his mouth but his brain wouldn’t cooperate. Oh fuck, she’s going to see, she’s going to see her father getting blown by his supposed boyfriend and they’re going to scar her forever and he’s going to shell out for her much-needed therapy--

But Zara just walked into what was most likely her bedroom, saying she didn’t need to be tucked in.

“No?” Nick found his voice, strained and almost high-pitched. “Are you sure you don’t want to be tucked in?”

“I’m eleven years old, daddy, I know how to put the blankets over myself.” Zara’s disembodied voice answered from her room, closing the door.

Rafael wanted to laugh but it was hard to do with a mouthful of penis, so he suckled hard at the tip, enjoying the stinging sensation of Nick pulling at his scalp. He felt himself through his jeans, enjoying the friction against his own growing erection.

Nick was practically mewling into his hand, struggling to remain quiet. The sounds of the movie, ambivalent screams and crashes, did naught to stifle the wet sounds of Rafael’s mouth, the pretty obscene sucking noises. He tested the limits of his gag reflex when he relaxed his throat, taking Nick in until he was breathing in the scent of his zipper. It was too much, Nick’s too big or Rafael’s mouth wasn’t big enough.

Nick’s hips stuttered and he threw his head back, gasping. His lips tried to form Rafael’s name to warn him, but Rafael couldn’t pull off in time before Nick stilled in ecstasy, spilling into Rafael’s mouth. Rafael was unprepared, most of his semen slipping from his lips and trying to catch it with his fingers. He sprung up from the floor and was overcome with the urge to spit; he fled to the kitchen, spitting out Nick’s release into the sink. The taste was bitter, and even as he tried to taste a drop of the semen on his cuff, it was too much. He grabbed some soap and furiously scrubbed his hands. He was shaking.

“Raf?” Nick eventually followed him into the kitchen, attempting to tuck himself back in, His leg was extra stiff now. Rafael couldn’t look at him. This night was too fast and they were too reckless, he should have just left when Zara came back, now he couldn’t explain his sub-par oral skills.

“Raf.” Nick said again, softer this time, taking Rafael’s hands from the sink and turning him around. “ _ ¿Está todo bien? _ ”

“I’m sorry, we shouldn’t have--”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, you didn’t, but… I haven’t done this in a long time.”

“Neither have I, it’s okay,  _ querido _ , I enjoyed it. Nick nuzzled into Rafael’s shoulder, overly affectionate in post-orgasm bliss. His hand snaked down between them and brazenly cupped Rafael through the denim.

Rafael jerked. “You don’t have to…” He refrained from saying  _ but I sure would like you to _ .

“Shhh, I want to.” Nick deftly fished Rafael’s cock from his jeans, his calloused grip deceptively gentle.

Rafael could cry right now. His most base desires are being answered in the dark of Nick’s kitchen. The slide against Nick’s fingers was dry and chafing, but he didn’t care. His pre-cum slicked the glide and he was rutting into Nick’s fist like a farm animal, probably bleating like one too; whatever noises his body subconsciously made he’s not under oath to admit. Nick grinding into him, hips bumping into one another, he kissed Rafael more, chasing the taste of his own release. His movements were jerky, and the handjob was imperfect, but a handjob’s a handjob; Rafael wasn’t picky.

“Nick,” he whined softly.

“ _ Eres enorme _ .” Nick breathed, bucking his hips into Rafael, hand squeezing. “So big, you’re so fucking huge, Rafi.” Oh, so Nick apparently had a size kink. Rafael’s brain was officially fried.

“I’m going to come,” Rafael whined into Nick’s shoulder.

“Come on,  _ querido _ , you can. Come, make a mess.” Nick hissed when Rafael suddenly bit him on the shoulder, fucking into Nick’s fist with abandon, until he finally stilled, come spurting into Nick’s waiting hand and on their pants. Rafael growled into Nick’s collarbone, hyper-sensitive as he came down from his high. Nick removed his hand, looked at the mess Rafael made.

“Sorry for the…” Rafael was tongue-tied, and truly at a loss for words when Nick’s gaze bore into him as he made kittenish licks at Rafael’s come on his fingers, tasting him. “What the fuck.” Nick turned them so he could wash his hands. When he finished, he dried his hands off a nearby dish towel.

“Sorry for not blowing you,” Nick whispered. “I’ve… I still have a lot to get used to, dating a man.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Rafael reassured, but then remembered. “Were we too loud? Oh God, I’m sorry, she could have heard  _ everything _ .” 

Nick leaned into Rafael, as if he didn’t want any space between them. “If she asks, I’m going to tell her that we were playing Go Fish.” He said, and they dissolved into a peal of giggles, kissing.

“Won’t you stay the night?” Nick asked softly, cupping Rafael’s face and kissing him sincerely. And any other situation, Rafael would, happy to be laid down on Nick’s bed, their bodies tangled together as they discovered each other. But, this was just too fast, breaking the sound barrier of their boundaries. They needed to pump the brakes and let this grow gradually, even if they admitted they were lovers.

“It’s a school night?” Rafael said instead. “And what’s Zara going to say should she see me in the same clothes from last night?”

“Tell her that we were playing Go Fish,” Nick repeated, laughing as Rafael swatted at his chest.

“I have meetings tomorrow, I should go.” Rafael removed himself from Nick’s warmth, already regretting it, but he still gathered his things and went to go put on his shoes. Nick followed him, opening the door for him when Rafael was all ready, but before Rafael crossed the threshold, Nick pulled him in for one last searing kiss.

When he parted, Rafael took in the sight of Nick’s wrinkled state of dress, the drying stains of come on his pants, and the lips swollen a reddish pink. His handiwork; Rafael was definitely going to jerk off when he got home.

“Trick or treat?” He smirked. Nick just grinned wickedly, and closed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, this chapter was supposed to be longer than what it was, but the second half of it didn't pan out well. Supposedly I'm turning this into a series so maybe I'll put the scene in my back pocket and will fish it out for another time
> 
> my god. when  
> when will they  
> will they ever


	8. this is just the most prolonged grindr encounter

The last flickers of the wildfires were ebbing away into air, bringing in the flurry of citizens getting out to vote. Rafael sent his absentee ballot to New York a month ago, and never got around to checking if it was accepted. He supposed they would have sent him something in the mail if it didn't. He was too busy to check, too busy to ask Nick if he was going to vote.

Nick was getting off a grueling shift and almost fell asleep at the wheel. Rafael felt selfish in asking Nick over when he saw the state the Sergeant was in, but Nick just made himself comfortable on the loveseat and rested his eyes while Rafael roasted some vegetables. When the food was ready Nick yawned and made his way to the table, rubbing his eyes.

"Are you sure you don't want to just go home and rest? You've been working hard."

"I've been running on shitty precinct coffee and bags of popcorn all day, and I don't feel like cooking." Nick's eyes were reddish; he was blinking rapidly to stay awake.

"Are you even awake enough to shovel food in your mouth?" Were they even at that point in their relationship where they could feed each other? Giving each other oral sex, that's fine, but this level of intimacy was unchartered territory. Before Rafael even stopped himself, he was grabbing Nick's fork and giving him broccoli, prodding his mouth with it. If Nick wanted to object, he was too exhausted to do so. He mechanically opened his mouth and accepted being fed, chewing like a horse.

"You chew weird."

"We can’t be perfect at everything, now can we?." Nick mumbled, trying to grab the fork but his motor skills weren't top-notch.

"Stop resisting, let me feed you."

"You sound like Zara."

"You've got to stop wearing yourself out like this. What did you even do?" They haven't been able to connect in days, Rafael could only fathom that Nick was once again going the extra mile and offering his skills in the precinct, doggedly chasing leads while running on pure adrenaline. What may have worked back in New York before he got shot wouldn't work here, where the grasp on his youth was quickly getting out of reach.

"Was running around looking for suspects, and didn't go to bed on time for like, the past few days. I'm running on, maybe seven hours of rest? I was reading."

"Is it a good book at least?"

"Ha, fuck no, reading about illegal search and seizure is not fun nor  _ good _ , but, I need to know this stuff." Nick held out his hand for the fork, so that Rafael could eat his own food. He settled on primitive cutlery techniques, shoveling food in his mouth like a toddler. Rafael ought to take a photo and send it to Olivia, saying  _ who let this man be an adult?  _

"Sorry, I must look silly." Nick wiped grains of rice from the corner of his mouth, his gaze faraway, unseeing, eyes glazed over as if he was going to collapse from his chair.

His own food forgotten, Rafael took Nick by the arm and brought him to his bedroom, guiding him to the bed.

"I don't even think I can trust you to drive the necessary hundred feet to your house," he said, nesting the pillows around the Sergeant to make him comfortable, despite Nick's feeble protesting. 

"Raf, you don't have to—"

"You are going to keel over if you keep this up. You sleep, or I'm going to call Liv and she'll emasculate you over the phone if you don't close your goddamn eyes." Nick chuckled at the threat, unbuttoning his shirt to take it off. "Here, let me." Rafael took over and Nick closed his eyes, his breathing relaxed. He didn't resist when Rafael fished his arms out of the sleeves. Rafael unbuckled his belt and began to unzip his pants. 

"Raf," Nick said, his voice clear as a bell. Rafael looked at him. Nick's eyes were open, his lips set into a thin line. Rafael was looming over him, two inches away from straddling his hips.

"We're not going to—I'm just taking off your work clothes—" Fatigue made Nick's mind go in the gutter. Rafael tugged at his pants, but Nick pawed at his hands, pulling Rafael down and throwing his arms around him. Trapped, Rafael could feel Nick's tension ease out of his limbs.

"I need to go clean up," he said into Nick's collarbone, inhaling the smell of the precinct on his skin.

"Mmm, stay, don't go," Nick mumbled, almost sounding childish. Rafael snorted, wriggling out of his embrace and throwing a pillow when Nick literally whined ("why'd you do that? I learned that from you!"), padding back to the kitchen. 

It only took him around five minutes to put the food away and load the dishwasher, but when Rafael returned to the room to get changed for bed Nick was out cold, snoring softly and curled up into a ball in the corner of the bed.  _ That can't be good for the back _ . Rafael ought to pull his limbs from underneath his body, but what if Nick was one of those types who punches in his sleep? Rafael brushed his teeth, washed his face, and changed. He read a few pages of some legal documents for court before putting them aside, turning off the light. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark, where the silhouette of Nick could just be seen. Rafael rolled over to him, gently turning him over and resting his head on his chest. The warmth of Nick's breath made his neck feel moist, but Rafael couldn't bring himself to move him away. He let the gentle rhythm of Nick's breathing lull him to sleep. 

When he awoke, Nick was awake, head removed from his chest, watching Rafael sleep. The moonlight spilling through the spaces of the blinds outlined his lying form, illuminating his undershirt. He felt so far away; Rafael wanted to reach out out of instinct. 

"It rained for a bit," Nick's voice was gravelly. "Which we need. Hopefully it rains again."

"What time is it?"

"3:48. Was I talking in my sleep?"

"No, do you do that?"

Nick shrugged, pulled himself closer to Rafael. "Sometimes." The moonlight bounced off his eyelids, shifting down. It felt like Nick wanted to say something more, but held his tongue.

"Something on your mind?" Rafael asked, fingers carding through Nick's hair.

"Mmm? Nothing of importance. Just letting my mind wander." Nick's hand found its way to Rafael's chest, flattening his palm against his ribcage. Nick moved closer, until he was practically on top of Rafael, the Sergeant's weight lighter than he anticipated. Despite the morning breath, Rafael couldn't resist the magnetic pull of his mouth, hand cupping his jaw, feeling the bristle of stubble. Nick shifted so that his hardening cock brushed against Rafael's pelvis.

He made a soft noise, and Nick hummed into his mouth, his hand snaking down between them to cup Rafael's dick through his sleep pants. "I take it you're happy to have me here still." He murmured, chuckling darkly when Rafael let out a shaky hiss of pleasure at the ministration. 

"You feel happy to have me here by your side as well," Rafael reached down and grabbed Nick, a little too hard; Nick made a noise so jarring and unexpected in the quiet of the room. They laughed, kissing some more, and Rafael felt his heart seize in his chest at the sheer act of intimacy. 

"I am happy," Nick admitted. "Happy to have you in my life." The sparse moonlight lit up his smile. He sounded so genuine and sincere, that Rafael thought that if he turned on the lamp he'd ruin the moment. 

"You are a mystery, Nick Amaro."

"Am I?" Nick pulled himself up until he was straddling Rafael's hips. The light slanted on his form, and Rafael could just make out the shape of Nick's distended erection pulling down the fabric of his boxers.  _ Holy fuck _ . Rafael's hands grabbed at Nick's hips.

"I make you like this?" He found himself saying. Nick took his hand, guided it to his dick, let him squeeze him through his shorts.

"Yes," he sighed. "You do this to me." And Nick could say that a million times, and it would still blow Rafael away, to think that anyone could desire him. Nick canted his hips back, to where Rafael’s hardening dick was nestling in the cleft of his ass, and a bolt of clarity shocked through him.

Rafael pulled Nick out of his boxers, lazily stroking him, enjoying the sharp sounds of pleasure coming out him. "You like that?" God, Rafael didn't graduate from the School of Dirty Bed Talk, but hoped the burgeoning desire thickening his voice would fill in the gaps. Nick was easy to please however, and now in a space where he could voice his pleasure with no worries of a kid within earshot, he voiced it so.

" _ Fuck yeah," _ he moaned. "Harder." His voice grating, vibrating through his chest, his whole body. Rafael's dick jerked, aching for Nick to practically squash him. But Nick pulled Rafael out of his pants, brushing the tip of his cock up the length. Nick encircled his hand around both of their cocks, trying to get a rhythm going. Oh, now  _ that’s _ even better.

Rafael made a sound that would probably alert his neighbors if they weren't asleep. Nick's dick, his hand, the weight of his body on him, the sounds of him whimpering as he rubbed against him. Pre-cum greased his grip and Rafael was going to come in record time if Nick kept this up.

But Nick, with a groan, slid off him, falling beside him, catching his breath. "My knee,  _ lo siento _ ." Nick was shaking, hiding his face in Rafael's shoulder but failing. 

" _ Esta bien,  _ are you okay?" Hard-on forgotten, he reached over to stroke Nick's leg, rubbing whenever the muscles jerked.

Nick nodded, gulping in air. He shifted beside Rafael, and it took the feel of fabric dropping on his chest to realize Nick was now naked beside him. He froze, overcome with the thought that his wildest fantasy was really happening, holy shit, Nick Amaro was—Rafael looked over to see Nick's lean body outlined by moonlight, the pockets of light teasing his tan skin. He should undress, right? Why was he hesitating?

"You're—" Nick reached over in the dark, tugging at Rafael's pants and briefs, until they tangled at his feet. Rafael furiously pulled off his shirt, brazen. His skin against Nick's, in the dark, feeling exposed. "Your skin is soft."

"I want," Nick breathed in deep, making a couple of long exhales. "I want you on top of me."

Rafael blinked, short-circuiting, ready to come at the request. He gingerly shifted until he was flush against Nick, feeling a blush bloom across his body when their erections brushed against each other. 

"Am I heavy?" Rafael asked, overwhelmed by the warmth and proximity.

"No, this feels nice." Nick reached between them to resume stroking. "I've wanted this, for so long." Rafael wanted to ask, but when Nick’s hand wrapped around him, suffusing him with pleasure he hadn't felt in so long, his brain was fried. God, they had to be at work in a few hours, and Rafael didn't think he could just go about his day knowing that he was inches away from being inside Nick, or Nick inside him.

"You wanted me to—" a twist of Nick's wrist and Rafael squeaked, fucking into his hand, groaning as Nick's cock slid tortuously slow against his. "You wanted me like this? Oh God, you continue to floor me." They shared a kiss, sloppy and more teeth than lips, Nick's breath hot against his face.

“Wanted more, wanted to taste all of you, wanted to mark you, you marking me,” Nick was practically begging in his ear, rapidly confessing his basest desires, his moans so sinful and ostentatious that Rafael was so glad he didn’t share any walls with other tenants.

“I want you to fuck me.” That made Rafael startle as if someone shot him through the skull. He pulled himself up, Nick scrambling to close the distance between them again. “No, don’t, I didn’t mean to say—”

“No, no, no,  _ cari _ _ ño, _ I wasn’t prepared to hear that.” Rafael didn’t have Nick Amaro Wanting to Bottom as a space on his Bingo card. “Come here, let me help.” He resumed stroking him, trying to silence Nick’s moans with kisses, but they were so loud, guttural and unlike anything Rafael could imagine.

“Please, I’m so close. Rafi,  _ por favor _ —”

“I’m right here, come on, let go,” brave, Rafael slid his hand down past Nick’s balls, softly kneading them in his hands, before curiously reaching further to circle the rim of his anus. Just the shocking sensation of a fingertip barely breaching his hole had Nick arching off the mattress, coming all over their chests, his hand, the bedsheets. Rafael wasn’t far behind, the soft silhouette of Nick in the throes of ecstasy forever burned in his mind. He latched onto an earlobe, groaning as he released all over their chests, their come gluing them together. If they didn’t have respective jobs to be at pretty soon then Rafael wouldn’t mind staying like this.

Reluctantly, he pulled himself off Nick and stumbled to the bathroom, flipping on the light to find a washcloth. Wetting one up, he wiped his stomach and turned to hand Nick one, but Nick was behind him. Properly illuminated, his eyes seemed to wide and the smattering of body hair looked painted on. The shade of his skin, his veins prominent in his arms. Everything about him was so casually beautiful; Rafael let himself stare.

“That was,” Nick chuckled, taking the washcloth and wiping himself off haphazardly. “That was intense.”

“Yeah,” _ real eloquent there, Raf _ . “I didn’t think I would ever hear those sounds come out of you in my lifetime.” Nick laughed, leaning forward to kiss Rafael’s shoulder.

“We should hop in the shower.”

“Yeah, we would conserve so much water showering together.” California was still in her perpetual drought.

“I went past the beach the other day. There’s  _ plenty _ of water,” Rafael joked, causing Nick to laugh harder, burying himself into Rafael’s side.

“What an asshole,” but there was no malice in that; Nick might as well have called Rafael  _ the love of my life _ . But Rafael didn’t trust himself to bring Nick into his shower. If Nick was honest back there, he’d literally bend the Sergeant over and plow into him, soap slippery against their skin and making their stance wobbly, but making Nick scream in pleasure as Rafael was thrusting into him with all his might sounded worth it. But even as excited as he was for that, he didn't feel like he was in the right headspace to go through with it. He couldn't fathom hurting Nick in any capacity, or ruin Nick's first time with lackluster lovemaking.

“We wouldn’t be cleaning ourselves off now wouldn’t we?” Rafael let Nick press him against the wall, chest to chest, enjoying them being so close.

“Mmm, nope.” Nick sounded like he was smiling.

“You don’t have a spare change of clothes here.”

“I do not.”

“Guess we’ll have to ‘conserve water’ another time.” Nick pulled away from him, the light making his eyes softer, younger.

“Another time, then.” Nick promised, going back into the darkness of the room to go fish for his clothes. When he was dressed again, he grabbed his phone (“yikes, nine percent battery!”) and told Rafael to come over for coffee before they had to head in for work. 

“Proper  _ cafecito _ , that’ll keep us up.” Rafael liked the sound of that, even liked the idea of spending the morning with Nick before he headed in. Rafael hastily put on his sleep pants to walk Nick to the door, holding himself from pressing Nick against the door and kissing him again.

“See you in forty-five minutes?”

“Yeah, go get cleaned up,  _ Papi _ .” Nick smirked, closing the door.

Rafael went back to the bedroom to go shower, and didn’t conserve any water at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow I should probably learn how to update regularly. this isn't a proper chapter, this is just to tide y'all over until I figure out how this is supposed to wrap up.
> 
> I'm team Nick Amaro is a bottom.
> 
> Nick graduated from the School of Dirty Bed Talk on a football scholarship.
> 
> they still haven't boned, but man they're so close you could taste it.


	9. but you believe in me, so it will come true

LAX International Airport was a goddamn shitshow, and there was an inner struggle within Rafael on whether he should just take a later flight or cancel altogether, and ask Nick if he could tag along to San Diego for the holidays. Just the thought of him third-wheeling Nick’s special time with Gil and Cynthia made him steel his spine as they waited in the crawl of traffic just to drop Rafael off at check-in.

“I’m so sorry I’m making you late,” Rafael told Nick, who was busy scowling at the cars ahead of him, as if his surly cop attitude would make traffic dissipate. He could hear the Sergeant’s teeth grinding. “I probably should have just taken an Uber.” Nick, ever eager to lend a hand, insisted he was saving Rafael a few hundred bucks on a taxi or Uber to the airport, and took an extended lunch break to drop him off.

“No, I—c’mon, _seize the fucking gap, cabron_ — told everyone my _abuelita_ was in town to see Zara before she headed over to Sacramento, so they kinda understood. I mean, it’s chaos at work but they have the manpower, being one man down wouldn’t hurt.”

“Oh, did you just lie to your squad?” At that, Nick’s eyebrows shot up and he chanced to look at Rafael, something akin to childish guilt in his eyes. “You called me your _abuelita_?”

“I uh, it slipped out?”

“Like this asshole right here trying to slip right by you without using their turn signal?” Rafael gestured wildly at the Porsche trying to nose its way in the narrow space between Nick’s car and the one ahead of him.

“Motherfucker should have known that he wasn’t supposed to head to the international terminal then.” Nick was trying so hard not to turn into a New York driver and lay into his horn; Rafael could see him struggling. “Watch him try to go back when he realizes that oh wait, he _is_ going to the international terminal. He’s gonna be fucking serpentining.” He let out a long exhale, counting to twenty. If he had nails, he’d be biting them down to the quick. He noticed Rafael studying him and straightened up in his seat.

“If you weren’t here, I would be forgetting all my anger management exercises,” Nick admitted. “I’m still trying not to erupt over every inconvenience, but it’s still very hard.”

“Things that are worth changing take time, it isn’t an overnight miracle. You’re doing great,” Rafael reminded him. “I truly appreciate you going out of your way for me again.”

“Eh, I wanted to do it.” But Nick flushed at the praise Rafael was giving him. “I know you’ll only be gone for less than a week, but…” Nick trailed off and let the Porsche cut in, checking if he was approaching the right stop. “You’re checked in right? It was Delta, not United, no?”

“Yeah, I am.” Rafael chose to ignore the unspoken _but I’ll be missing you_ between them. “I’ve got like two hours before take off.”

“By then I’ll finally drop you off. Oh God, why does everyone forget what airline they’re flying in, and why do they always insist on packing all of their luggage? You guys are leaving for a four day weekend; this is not a mass exodus.” After five minutes of no cars making a move, Nick made a hiss. “Raf, I’m sorry my friend, but you might need to walk the rest of the way?”

“Oh?” Rafael made a show to unbuckle his seatbelt and reach for his carry-on. “What if by some horrid accident I get clipped by this giant truck behind us and I’m suddenly dragged under and I’m flattened like a pancake?”

“Well then it was nice knowing you?” Nick didn’t miss a beat; Rafael laughed and Nick couldn't mask his grin. He reached over and took Nick’s hand resting on his gear shift and intertwined his fingers in his. Nick glanced down at their hands, a soft warm smile brightening his face. The silence was comforting, even though the symphony of honks and turn signal clicks marred it.

“Would it be weird if I kissed you on the cheek?” Rafael asked.

Nick pointedly looked at him. “We’re dating. You had my dick in your mouth, and _now’s_ the time you ask if this is weird or not?”

“But would it be?”

Nick scoffed. “Wildly out of pocket and mad gay, as the kids say,” he answered. “But do it anyway.” Instead, Rafael brought Nick’s hand to his lips and gently kissed his knuckles. “That’s even gayer, not gonna lie.” But Nick never made an attempt to remove his hand. Rafael could imagine the person in the Rav4 trying to back up and cut to the phone lot looking at this moment of affection, and in any circumstance, he’d stop. But he didn’t. Fondness and warmth made Nick’s shoulders relax and let him lax in his seat. There was a beat, then Nick closed the gap between them and kissed Rafael, ignoring the seat belt cutting into his pulse point. They must have been spotted because some horn blasted beside them and Rafael jumped.

“Ah, go fuck yourself,” New York Nick finally emerged, making a face at the car trying squeeze past his, “Happy Thanksgiving. Eat several bags of dicks, God bless.” This random barrage of words made Rafael cackle, laughing so hard tears moistened his eyes.

Nick realized what he said. “That wasn’t aimed at you…”

“I know! I know! But—” Rafael couldn’t stop laughing, the mirth ceaseless and infectious; Nick chuckling along. It finally died down when they eventually made it to the Delta drop-off.

“I guess I should get my stuff…” Rafael unbuckled his seat belt, almost reluctant to leave the coziness of the car and brave the chaos of the terminal.

“Wouldn’t it just _suck_ if you forgot it and I had to throw your carry-on across security? And it would be weird because I throw overhand…”

“Nick, you can’t do that.”

“Why not? I bet I can throw a perfect spiral still.” Rafael had to jump out of the car before he fell into another bout of giggles. He reached in the backseat for his carry-on, and closed the back door.

Nick got out of the car in the pretense of helping Rafael, walking over to him.

“You didn’t have to walk me to the door, _flaco_.” Rafael was mildly startled as Nick embraced him, planting a kiss on his temple.

“Have a safe flight.” Nick murmured into his hair.

Still high on the laughter and the giddy anticipation of going back to New York, Rafael had to mar this public tender moment. “Amaro, you know I have no control over that.”

Nick squinted at him using his surname. “Fine, then perish.” He shot back.

“Okay I’m going to go before you cause another scene.” Rafael pulled away.

“Don’t come back without bagels." Rafael was confused at the request, but loosened by laughter and Nick’s sunny disposition, decided that it didn't seem farfetched.

"Okay, I'll think about it." He grabbed his bag and made his way in, looking back and was pleased to see Nick still there, even though there were other cars trying to take his spot or move around him. He got his boarding pass and braved into the weaving snake that was the security line. He shot Nick a text.

 _God this security is awful,_ he typed. _Like, how mad would you be if I wanted to invite myself to San Diego_ ? There wasn't a reply until Rafael approached TSA, which meant Nick already left and he didn't text while driving. He eventually got through and walked towards the gate. _Disregard that last text_ . _Thank you for dropping me off again_.

It wasn’t until he was filing down the plane to his seat when it finally buzzed. Nick finally answered.

 _I could never be mad at you. Is it weird if I say I miss you already?_ Rafael had the window seat, and he was already having his personal space violated by his neighbor who clearly said Fuck You to the one personal item rule. Seeing Nick’s reply made him forget about his discomfort. 

_Guess you should call me strange and unusual: I am missing you as well_. Rafael stared at the Message Read symbol until the flight attendant announced for all electronic devices to be stowed or put on airplane mode. 

  
  


Φ

  
  


Rafael’s plane was earlier than anticipated. He couldn’t be excited because grabbing a taxi or an Uber in New York during a holiday was too wild of a dream to comprehend. It felt as if he was on a long sabbatical and returning back to normalcy, even though life with the firm and Nick was feeling more commonplace than he would admit. Los Angeles’ sunshine, kaleidoscope of color, and wildfires were a stark contrast to New York City’s skyscrapers shrouding the people in shade.

He wouldn’t lie, he missed it.

 _I landed and I already found good bagels_. He texted Nick, even though he should call his mother.

_Glad you made it. How was the flight? Please send over 100 everything bagels._

_Please come up with a reasonable number_. Rafael took the bus and settled for squeezing into the subway trains taking him to his mother’s house. Muscle memory of finding shortcuts to his house took over and before he knew it, he was in front of the familiar apartment complex steps, crumbling after years of being trodden on. The ancient superintendent from his childhood was still there; recognized Rafael but only gave him a small nod of greeting.

He opened the door to his mother’s place, hearing the sound of water running in the kitchen. She was humming and puttering around, the smells of dinner just getting ready filled the air.

“Mami?” His voice caused her to yelp and curse, running out to the doorway. “ _Sorpresa_.”

“Aiya, _mjio_ , you nearly gave me a heart attack!” Lucia scrambled to embrace her son, Rafael unashamedly burying his face into her shoulder like he did as a kid. “Oh, my baby, my son’s home!” He didn’t think she would tear up at his return, but when he pulled away her eyes glistened with tears.

“Oh I got to break out the good bourbon!”

“You could wait until dinner tomorrow. I’ve only been gone for five months.” But Lucia still hurried back into the kitchen, reaching above the refrigerator to pull out a half-full bottle of brown. Rafael left his bag at the door and sat at the dinner table as Lucia busied herself with fixing a plate for him. “Eat up, you’re not eating enough in L.A.. The skin is hanging off you.”

“I’m eating over there!” He protested the heaping amounts of rice and chicken on his plate.

“That avocado on toast? Diet water? Acai bowls? _A tomar por culo_.” Lucia was animated in telling her son about the school year, the promising teachers she hired. She mentioned that school shooting in the Lower East Side that hit the news.

“Olivia investigated that,” that’s how Rafael found out: Olivia called him, sounding exhausted and overwhelmed by the ordeal. “The perpetrator was a special victim.”

“It’s just horrible how these things keep happening. Those kids won’t be sitting with their families this holiday, and the coming ones.” Lucia’s eyes misted again, shaking her head to not think of the tragedy. Rafael shoveled food in his mouth to appease her.

“I missed you, Mami.” Rafael admitted after a moment,

“Certainly not enough to return my calls.”

“You know how I get, I’m busy. I’m joining a team to investigate voter fraud, trying to be a voice for the people…”

“Olivia told me you’re seeing someone,” Lucia said. “A neighbor named Liam? Is he nice to you? That last boy broke your heart and turned you into a little asshole-”

“Mami!” A tumultuous mixture of embarrassment and relief and horror churned the rice in his stomach. God bless his mother accepting her son’s orientation back in his early days at Harvard, but he still got nervous when his heavily Catholic family were cognizant of his sexuality.

“You were surlier than usual and ready for the sky to fall down. Who was that guy—he was in your Humanities lecture—”

“Michael Rogers. That was twenty-two years ago.”

“Is this Liam a nice man? What does he do? Do you have a photo of him?” Rafael did have a photo of Nick on his phone, where they were having dinner at this local Italian place. The soft evening lights gave Nick a gentle look, his eyes looked tired but he was content to be in Rafael’s presence. Rafael would probably admit if that dinner was the first time he was overcome with wanting to reach across the table and kissing Nick in public. It was his own little secret, that photo. Nick knew he would look at it from time to time.

“Ah, he’s nice,” Rafael shouldn’t be lying to his mother. “He works in law enforcement. We haven’t taken photos together. We just spend time talking about books, law, theater, music.”

If Lucia wasn’t pleased with that answer, she chose not to show it. “You should have brought him.”

“He’s busy, plus his family is in Northern California, so…”

“I plan to meet him. When you go back, tell him I said hello.”

“I will.” And Lucia never brought up this Liam guy. Rafael knew this lie was going to bite him in the ass eventually; why couldn’t he just say it? She never met Nick, and if she were to ask Olivia she’d vouch for him on his behalf.

“So, dinner with Olivia and her son tomorrow! I wonder if she’ll bring anyone else?”

“She has a half-brother, maybe him and his family? Unsure, they’re estranged.” He couldn’t speak for the rest of the squad’s plans, not keeping up with Sonny’s promise to keep in touch.

“I’m still planning to cook for ten. If no one eats it, I’ll give it away to the needy. You’ll help me distribute it.”

“What now?”

“Lord knows you need to seek penance for something.” Rafael shook his head and gulped down two fingers of bourbon.

  
  


Φ

Since Olivia’s apartment was bigger, Thanksgiving was held there. Lucia loaded up her car and had Rafael hold giant aluminum pans filled with _ropa vieja_ and tamales in his lap, the steaming dishes making his thighs feel sticky.

“You made far too much, Noah’s not going to eat this.”

“He’s a sweet boy, he’ll try for me.” Lucia did have an effect on children that got them to try things at least once; that’s how Rafael learned to like lima beans. Of course she made him carry the dishes to the apartment.

The door to the apartment was opened for convenience; and Rafael supposed that a seasoned police lieutenant could feel comfortable doing that. Olivia was making a salad while Sonny was there with a baked pasta dish that could feed twenty. Amanda was arranging something in the refrigerator. Her kid was watching TV with Noah. His old friends were all here; his heart had never felt so warm.

“What? No Fin?” Rafael’s voice made three trained cops look up at the sound and their hands reflexively went to their hips, but noticing it was just Rafael and they weren’t armed, they relaxed.

“Oh it’s so good to see you,” Olivia never ran to hug anyone so fast, Rafael putting the dishes on the set table in haste to embrace her. Olivia’s presence felt so soothing, so motherly. “Noah, Uncle Raffa is here!”

“You make me sound so old.” Sonny came over to pull Rafael into a hug, clapping a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Good to see you again, Counselor.” Sonny looked leaner, despite being known for making sure everyone around him was fed.

“How’s Fordham?”

“Night school is even more brutal, but I’m still giving 110%. You like it over there in California?”

“It’s nice. The wildfires have stopped for now.”

“That’s good.” Amanda closed the refrigerator door, showing a sizable bump in her stomach.

“Are you _pregnant again_!”

“Hello to you too, Barba,” Amanda scoffed, still pushing Sonny out for a hug. “Yes, I am pregnant again. What’s it to you?”

“No, no, no, congratulations, I’m happy for you. That’s amazing.” He looked at Sonny, who shook his head.

“What the hell are you two talking about?” Amanda narrowed her eyes.

“We didn’t say a damn thing!”

“Language!” But Olivia was smiling as she was putting food on the table, gently ushering the children in the living room to their own table. Lucia came in with the rest of the food, Sonny springing in to help. The air felt lively and familial, wine flowing (ginger ale for Amanda) along with conversation. Fin was with his son and his husband, but he called halfway between dinner to wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving.

“How’s Nick?” Amanda asked after Fin hung up.

“He’s fine. He’s working a lot. There’s a few cases he’s wrapped up in that I’m not at liberty to discuss-- because he wouldn't tell me, and I’m not going to ask—but he’s juggling work and raising children with ease and enthusiasm. Have you met his son? He looks just like him.” Was his tone giving too much away? Did he expose far too much than he was willing to allow? Two trained Detectives and their Lieutenant who can spot lies and hidden truths right in front of them, wouldn’t it just be a relief to admit the truth? What would Amanda think of them—she shared her company with Nick, the two butting more than just heads—what would the rest of them think of him?

“Maybe next time he’ll tag along.” Amanda held Jessie in her arms, smiling fondly as Jessie asked for more carrots.

“I don’t even know if that guy takes a vacation. Maybe you two need to fly down and visit him, and he’ll make time for himself.” That’s it, if anyone asked him if he was seeing anyone, he’d just tell them the truth. This Nick-shaped lump in his stomach was hard to digest.

Sonny was taken in by Lucia and her stories of Rafael in Harvard, despite Rafael pleading with her not to tell her embarrassing stories, she had enough wine in her to ignore her son’s protests. While the last of the food was scraped clean from the plates, and the pants loosened, Sonny went to a corner to read some case readings, Amanda and Lucia went to entertain the children with dessert, and Olivia pulled Rafael aside in the hallway.

“How are you, Liv?” Olivia had always looked out for everyone else, taken more than anyone could ever stand, but never took any time to look after herself. “You need to sit still. Let Fin watch the bullpen for a couple of weeks, come down to Los Angeles, come and _see_ it.”

“I’ve been to Los Angeles,” Olivia protested, sipping wine.

“You only went to follow a lead for a serial rapist, seeing the backlog of the LAPD’s rape kits is not seeing Los Angeles. You’ve done so much, I need to put the badge down and just be Olivia Benson.”

“The badge is literally branded into my palm, my brain, Raffa, you know this.” Olivia opened the door to her bedroom, and they sat on her bed. If Rafael was still A.D.A, and he still held a candle for her, he’d clam up at this glimpse into Olivia’s sleeping arrangements.

“Are you doing okay over there? And I mean, really, I never expected you to be such a homebody.” There was that look, soft and yet piercing, that Rafael almost reared back and spilled his wine.

“I’m doing fine, really, Liv, my job is far easier than yours. I’m not drinking myself to sleep or anything. I finally made up the bed in the guest bedroom. And that’s not because I’m battling any demons or anything,” he added at Olivia’s alarmed expression. “I’ve just been so busy. I get caught up in my work too easily, that I forget to eat sometimes. Nick sometimes has to intervene.”

“Amaro is looking after you?” Rafael just gulped his wine. “You’re letting him?”

“It’s… more of a mutual thing.”

Olivia made that face when she was trying to solve something, or she already solved the problem, and was just trying to make the suspect squirm. When it was directed at him, it felt like he was in the interrogation room all over again.

“Is Liam okay with you guys hanging out together?” She asked after a while.

Man, Rafael should have brought the whole bottle of wine with them. He inhaled through his nose sharply.

“There was no Liam.” He said it so quietly, that he was pretty sure the sounds of his mother singing along with Noah and Jessie to _A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving_ drowned him out. “Or, there is a Liam, but it’s not his name.”

“Nick?” Olivia finished for him. It was easier to just nod; the Nick lump was traveling up his esophagus.

“Yeah, we’ve been seeing each other since late August.” Olivia just blinked. “We were just going to take it slow, and if either of us weren’t going to last we would just drift apart and no one would know but—”

“It’s okay,” Olivia was smiling. “Better than okay, that’s wonderful.”

“He’s—he’s _wonderful_ , I don’t know why we butted heads early on, why I felt such resentment toward him back when. I guess not working with him gave me an opportunity to connect with him and see he’s so incredibly patient and forgiving and sweet and yes I am making a run-on sentence but,” Olivia was beaming, smiling so wide like that time she captured Noah’s first steps. “What?”

“You know what that sounds like?” So much fondness was in her voice that if Rafael had enough alcohol in his system he’d be cradling her face like a drunken woman and calling her precious. “It sounds like you’re in love.”

That sobered him up quickly. “Yah, don’t say that. Bad, Lieutenant Benson, bad.” He wagged a finger in her face and she giggled.

“Oh? I can’t put the truth in your face?” He just grumbled and sipped more wine. “Rafael Barba, afraid to fall in love?”

“More like, scared how easy it is to find Nick so lovable. But I don’t think I can call it love just yet. I think we were just two men trying to start anew after hardship, and discovering we had a lot more in common than we do differences. Nick _admired_ me, cared about how I was doing, was willing to buy me groceries because I forgot how to take care of myself, and rather than mock me, he’d help me. He unearthed something from within me, and I just let this take its course. He’s really funny, likes to make others around him laugh. He’s surprisingly affectionate, did you know that?”

“You’re going to have to ask Amanda that,” Olivia said, still grinning. “Wow, you and Nick, huh?”

“Is Rollins going to kill me?”

“No, whatever feelings those two had for each other fizzled out. I think even if Nick were to walk into the bullpen she’d most likely just fistbump him and bring him up to speed. You could tell everyone, that’d ought to be a good conversation starter. If she ever were to give you grief, I’m sure you won’t lose sleep over it.

“How do you feel, now that the truth is out?” Rafael let out a big sigh, the Nick-shaped lump escaping him, and he felt so weightless.

“Feels fucking good.”

“I’m going to text Nick and tease him.”

“Oh dear God please don’t. Let me break the news to him.” Olivia rested his head on her shoulder, patting his cheek affectionately.

“I’m happy for you, Raffa,” she murmured, her warmth soothing him. “But I’m gonna be honest, I’m happier for myself.”

Rafael looked at her, puzzled. “Why?”

Olivia grinned, smug. “Because Fin owes me a hundred bucks.”

Φ

It was 2:00 AM when Rafael called Nick. Lucia was long asleep and the wine was fighting his eyelids, but Rafael had to call him.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Nick sounded as if he was just going to bed.

“Did I wake you? I’m sorry, I can call back.”

“No, no, it’s good to hear from you. How’s New York?”

“Hasn’t changed a damn bit. Still piles of garbage on the streets, it’s cold as shit here. But dinner was nice. Carisi and Rollins were there.”

“How are they?”

“Same as usual. I meant to call earlier…”

“I don’t know if I would have picked up; I was on kitchen duty with Cynthia and Maria.”

“You were in San Diego with your ex-wife and the woman you impregnated surrounded by knives?”

“Well, when you put it like _that_ …” Nick explained as a last-minute hiccup, Cynthia’s oven was malfunctioning, so Nick just invited her and Gil to Los Angeles, and since Maria and Zara lived only fifteen minutes away, it made sense to have dinner together. Sugeun even showed up.”

“You had a full house then. Was it awkward?” It was safe to assume that Cynthia and Maria had never been in the same room together.

“Only for a second, and then they ganged up on me and made me their kitchen bitch.” Rafael laughed. “They were very nice to each other, I think? Or maybe they just developed camaraderie over roasting me. Eh, I’m here to please, what’ya gonna do?”

“Sounds livelier than what I dealt with, though you haven’t heard my mom teach a toddler and a six-year old about Charlie Brown.”

“I was just so thrilled to have Gil and Zara under the same roof again, that I would have endured anything.” Nick had pure joy lightening his voice; Rafael could imagine his eyes sparkling. “It would have been better if you were here.”

Since Nick couldn’t see him, Rafael could blush and squirm all he wanted. “Maybe next time?”

“I like the sound of that.” Nick sounded like he was smiling.

“So, if Gil and Cynthia are down there, are they staying in your house?”

“Yeah, Zara’s staying the night because Maria has to be at the base early in the morning, and Gil’s in his room, Cynthia’s sleeping in my room. I’m on the couch.”

“Meanwhile, I’m in my childhood bedroom, looking at the frayed _Bonanza_ photos peeling off my walls.”

“You mean to tell me you had _Bonanza_ photos until you were high school, and you left them there? I didn’t peg you to be a Lorne Greene guy.” Every time Nick showed off his obscure knowledge of media Rafael was always dumbfounded.

“No, was more of a Mitch Vogel and Michael Landon guy.”

“Oh yeah, they were kinda hot.” They talked for a few minutes, Rafael picturing Nick opening the sliding glass door to get a bit more privacy.

“I told Olivia the truth.” Rafael blurted out. Nick was quiet on the other end. “I just, I tried to lie and not tell anyone, or I tried to say you were someone else, but I just couldn’t lie to Liv. One look at her and I just folded.”

“What did she say?” Nick asked after a moment.

“She’s happy for us. I never thought she would object, but I was still nervous.”

“Did Rollins say anything?”

“Haven’t told her yet, I just told Olivia we were trying this out. I’m sorry, I know we agreed to keep this between us.”

“We’re on the other side of America, if they don’t like it then you can fly back and never speak with them again. I’m pretty positive that the most Rollins would do is just be in a perpetual state of confusion until 2020.”

“It felt so liberating to tell Olivia, that I was finding happiness with you. I told her I wished we weren’t at odds back here, and that being with you was easier than anything. How different we would have been, if I just gave into my feelings for you and tried something.”

“I think, I wouldn’t be as angry, if we were really open with each other. I don’t know if we would have lasted though.” Rafael looked out the window; the moon was a waxing gibbous, her light paled in comparison to the pale street bulbs outside. He imagined Nick, sitting in the darkness of his backyard, looking up at the same moon, her light just barely outlining him.

“Because while I like you so damn much that it makes me crazy, Raf,” Nick continued. “I still would have left. I needed to be in my children’s lives as much as possible. I needed to be there for them and show them that despite my flaws, I was trying my best to do everything for them. If we… I don’t know what my life would be like if we drifted apart, but I know what my life would be if I wasn’t there for Gil and Zara. I would be _nothing_.”

How does one respond to that? Rafael knew he couldn’t compare to his children, and he was right; old Rafael would have been vindictive and would have resented Nick for throwing away something between them, but the new him, who found a simple dinner and conversation with Nick more rewarding than an expensive and indulgent trip abroad, would have agreed with the sentiment.

“I know,” he said softly. “I know.”

“Is it selfish to be happy that you got disillusioned over there and decided to move out here and then we found each other again?”

“A little, but you’re more altruistic than most, so it’s allowed.” Nick chuckled over the receiver, and Rafael’s going to need a glass of water.

“Everything was falling apart in New York, but here, everything feels a little more put together. I’m finding happiness here with you. It feels too good to be true.” Nick’s voice sounded shaky. “Um, I never told anyone this, not even Olivia, nor Maria.”

“What is it?”

“It feels weird that if I speak it out loud then it won’t come true.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Nick was probably shrugging. “Then it doesn’t.” he replied.

“What is it?” There was a pregnant pause.

“You know that textbook I’ve been reading a lot lately?”

“Yeah, you’re practically tearing your hair out because it’s boring you, but it’s important.” Was he doing night school like Sonny?

“Lieutenant Jackson is taking a promotion in San Jose, and she and the higher ups are recommending me to take the Lieutenant’s exam.” It came all out in a rush.

“You’re what?!” Rafael sat up in bed, restraining himself from stomping the floor. “That’s amazing!”

“Oh God, now that it’s in the air and out in the universe, God is going to smite my dreams.”

“ _Ya, pendejo_ , you’ve got this. If the higher ups are looking at you and thinking, yeah, this guy should command, then you got this. You’re going to do a bang-up job, Nick.”

Nick laughed thickly. “If you believe in me-”

“I _do.”_

“But you believe in me, so it must come true. Thank you, Raf.”

“You’re going to be a fantastic Lieutenant.”

“Let me take the exam and let IAB clear me first!” Nick laughed, sighed. “If there was anyone I wanted to tell, I’m glad it was you. I’m very thankful to have you.”

“I’m thankful to have you too, Nick Amaro.” Rafael was brimming with something, that if he put it to name he’d never utter it aloud. “I’m going to go to bed now.”

“It was good to hear from you. I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” He was about to say goodnight when he remembered.

“Rollins is pregnant.” He added.

“ _Again_?”

Φ

When Lucia was getting ready to get out and shop Black Friday deals, Rafael tagged along, linking his arm with hers.

“Liam’s actual name is Nick Amaro,” he told her. “He used to be a Detective for the NYPD.”

“Oh?” Lucia shrugged. “He makes you happy?”

“He does.”

“You might be in love with him?” Rafael looked at his mother.

“I think I might be.” He answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what timely updates are. I think it's because after watching the news and hearing all the stories about cops killing black people, I kinda felt no joy in continuing this. but I'm trying to learn how to finish projects, and despite all SVU is like comfort food. I guess it's what I want all cops to be? or maybe not. I'm don't know how to feel about it.


	10. you should see the other guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fucking finally.

Φ

Nick was awash with warmth just knowing his house was full with family. Even though he appreciated the quiet moments where the air in his house was still and he was winding down after a grueling shift, his being enjoyed the sight of his house nearly filled to capacity, his dining table strewn with dinner plates; feeling more like a home than most nights. Gil was curled up on the couch, ardently focused on his handheld game (“he saved up for six months to buy that thing,” Cynthia explained, “now I have to practically pay him to take breaks from it.” Nick was just happy that Gil found addictions to nerdy things rather than experiment with drugs.) and Zara was doodling in her journal, headphones on and blasting music that Nick could faintly hear over the running water.  _ She’s going to go deaf by twenty _ , Nick thought, but seeing his children so carefree and content, he couldn’t bring himself to chastise them.

“Lost in thought over there?” Maria had come in with a small stack of plates from the table, Cynthia grabbing something from her bag in Nick’s room.

“Did I have a weird look on my face?” Nick blinked and took the dishes from her hands.

“When is your face not weird? You looked so faraway just staring at the kids.”

“They just,” fondness seeped in his tone. “They look so content, behaving like kids. I’ll never get enough of this sight.”

Maria lightly snorted. “Meanwhile I feel like Zara can’t grow up fast enough. I can’t keep up with her ever-changing phases. Just how many interests could she be obsessed with?”

“Ah, she will sort herself out eventually. As long as she keeps her grades up, I’ll put up with anything.” It took some time, but Nick felt like he was back in sync with Maria, rearing in his stubborn nature and just swallowing any protests whenever she made last-minute changes to their parenting schedule. The change in his behaviour was so abrupt that Maria once pulled him aside and asked if he was acting like this just so that they could get back together. She didn’t seem convinced even when Nick told her no, that ship had sailed, hit a maelstrom and sunk to the bottom of the ocean long ago.

“I thought adults were crazy when they said they didn’t want their kids to grow up,” Nick continued scrubbing the pans. “Now, I get it. They still run up and give you spontaneous hugs, smile so wide it looks like their face is splitting in half, their only worries are missing their cartoons or if their friends can come over to play. Those days are disappearing fast, and I didn’t think I’d be clinging onto them so much.”

“Sometimes you say the saddest things, it almost worries me.” Maria leaned into Nick’s personal space, leering. “What’s happening to you?”

“Nothing,” Nick laughed. “I have a sensitive side, you would know; you fell for it.”

“Ah yeah, that happened.” At least Maria wasn’t grimacing whenever she was reminded of their marriage. “You still have that sensitive side to you, huh?”

“According to my doctor, both of my sides are sensitive.” That made Maria laugh, playfully swatting Nick with a dish towel as she went to load the dishwasher. Maria had been a little quiet during the dinner, still a little awkward around Cynthia, who talked enough for everyone at the table. She wasn’t much of a talker to begin with, but she seemed skittish.

“You okay?” Nick asked. “This is the most you’ve ever talked this evening.”

“Really? I thought I was hitting it off with Cynthia. We found a common thing to gripe about: you.”

“Ay, what did I do now? Besides the bullshit back in New York…”

“We both agree your eyebrows are ugly.” Nick feigned a gasp, a little hurt.

“I thought my face was nice looking? It ties my face together!”

“Eh, they could do with some improvement, we both said.”

“Alright, that’s enough wine for the both of youse. How are things going at the base?"

"They're fine. The usual." Maria had a security clearance and several non-disclosure agreements, so the fine could mean something for more dire but Nick wasn't privy to that information. 

"They are considering me to be promoted to Major."

"Really?" Nick brightened at that. He was glad that Maria was forging her own path in the military, and she was easily the smartest person he knew. A Major was the least the Army could give her. "So when can I start calling you Major Thanks?"

"I will cheerfully dismember you if you did." but Nick had a twinkle in his eyes, now adamant on making fun of her surname.

But wait, usually promotions meant she would be stationed somewhere. “Tell me they’re not shipping you back to Iraq.”

“No, no, absolutely not. What are you insinuating?”

“Usually these command posts have you going to a base somewhere. And,” he gave a passive cop glance at her body language. “You have this look like you’re hiding something.”

“Are you about to interrogate me?”

“No, no, let me clarify.” Nick put his hands up from suds, in a placating gesture. “I just, I know you. You fidget when you want to say something but you’re afraid to tell me. I could only guess from this that you’re going to be stationed somewhere.” He remembered her wringing her hands when she told him that she was taking Zara to D.C. with her, and her shivering as she told him she was moving to California. Badass as she is, she still didn’t enjoy mildly upsetting him.  _ How angry did I get back then _ ? Nick forced the unpleasant thoughts down, trained his face to be neutral.

Maria sighed. “It’s temporary.” She began.

“That’s good, you like it here in California. How long?”

“No more than six months. Hopefully six. I…”

“Don’t want you to defy protocol and accidentally be accused of treason or something.” Is she going to sign over custody to Nick while she’s gone? He tried not to look too excited.

“It would be good for Zara to visit another country while she’s young, don’t you think?”

Nick deflated. She wasn’t going to give him custody then.

“How far away are you moving?” He found himself saying. He wasn’t mad, he told himself, and he hoped his face wasn’t betraying his emotions. Should he be mad at this? Is this a thing to be angry about? His therapist told him to ask himself these questions when faced with curveballs like this. No, he shouldn’t be angry, especially not at Maria. She needed to take this promotion, and she came to him to tell him about this. Just because he wanted a few more weekends with Zara was not reason enough for him to even protest.

“Nick?” His mind wandered off again. “Are you still there?”

“Oh, sorry, I was lost in thought. So, another country?”

“Not Iraq.”

“Oh thank god, I would actually fight you if you did.”

“I’d fight myself too. They’re stationing me in Okinawa.”

“Okinawa,” Nick echoed. “Sure can’t drive there, now could I?”

“It’s only six months,” Maria reminded. “A year, if the South China Sea disputes worsen. I will demand to be sent back if it ever is extended past that.”

“Does Zara know?” He looked at their daughter.

“She prefers that I would be stationed in Yongsan in Seoul, but she’s excited to go.” And how could Nick tell his kid that she couldn’t go then? The allure of Asia to her was more exciting than any possible temptation he could offer.

“Did she actually say Yongsan or did she ask what Army bases are in Korea and then ask which one was in Seoul?”

“The latter. I-- I’m telling you this, and I shouldn’t have to ask for permission to take this position.”

“You’re not, and it’s not my place to tell you what you should do to provide for our daughter. I’m just… she’s at that age where she’ll not want to be under her dad’s arm anymore. I’m afraid to not be there when she needs me most. Facetime, Skype, phone calls; they only do so much.”

“But it’s-”

“It’s only temporary, I know.” Nick felt his mouth move up into a smile. “I’m glad you’re getting this promotion, you more than deserve it. And this will be good for Zara.” Said kid had removed her headphones and walked into the kitchen to refill her glass.

“My ears were tingling, so I assume you two were talking about me?” Zara said.

“Who taught you how to talk like that to your old man?” Nick was bewildered. The sass in this girl! That was Sonya and Estelle coming out of her.

“Zara, I told your father that we’re going to be in Japan for a while.”

“Oh yeah! I’ve been wanting to tell you but mom insisted she’d break the news to you gently so you won’t get angry.” Would anger be his only defining characteristic? He imagined, when he died and all who even bothered to remember him, they would only remark on his temper. His changes and his accomplishments were diminished by his shortcomings.

“I’m only bummed because I can’t go with you. Japan! That’s awesome! Gil and I are gonna have to get our passports and come visit you. Hopefully you’ll be fluent by the time we get there; Dad can’t read a fucking word of Japanese.”

“Ay!” Both Maria and Zara smacked his stomach and he doubled over. “Put a dollar in the swear jar!” Maria protested.

“Molesting my poor innocent childlike ears with that!” That was Zara.

“You two are too much,” Nick made a note to grab his wallet and drop a dollar in the jar. “But, you’re going to keep in touch with me, right?” He hugged Zara to his side, afraid to let her go.

To his delight, she still nuzzled into his chest and hugged him back. “Of course, dad.” Maria smiled, genuine like that time she came back from Iraq. Nick hoped his face was still smiling.

  
  


Φ

On the giant plasma-screens at JFK, CNN reported that there was a manhunt for triple murders in Anaheim, with the perpetrators reportedly being cornered in Calabasas. So it was only a matter of time before Nick called Rafael and told him that he unfortunately couldn’t pick him up from the airport; he would be swamped with paperwork. Would it be safe to leave the crumpled bag of bagels at his doorstep, or would the raccoons get to them before Nick got a chance? He sent a text saying that he’s watching the police close in on the bad guys and hope that Nick would be safe. Triple murder and city-wide car chase, complete with helicopter footage?  _ I’m always missing the good stuff _ ,  _ huh?  _ Rafael’s flight was oversold so he volunteered to take the next flight leaving in two hours. As much as he loved to travel, he hated airports, he always felt itchy in them. The constant rush of the passengers trying to make their gates gave him nausea; he was trying not to throw up into the bag of bagels.

Eventually his new flight was ready to board and he focused on breathing as he boarded and resisted the urge to scream as the passenger next to him just wouldn’t stop stepping on his toes as he kept reaching for his carry-on. This was going to be the worst six hours of his life, not including the whole waiting for the jury on his verdict.

When they landed back in Los Angeles, it was approaching 9 PM, and when Rafael took his phone off airplane mode, the texts Nick left finally loaded.

_Sorry I can’t pick you up from the airport. These dumbasses got us working overtime. The paperwork on this bitch_ was one of them. The other read _I_ _still want to see you. I’ll pull rank if I have to weasel my way out of interrogation_. Was Nick part of the chase? Was the arrest part of his jurisdiction? “Do I even want to know?” Rafael asked aloud, and everyone around him was too preoccupied with unfastening their seatbelts and getting their bags to hear him.

Stone-faced, he navigated the cacophony of LAX and was fortunate to only wait fifteen minutes for an Uber. His driver didn’t talk much, only asking where he was flying from and if he enjoyed his Thanksgiving. After that, the sound of the rushing traffic in the night was a welcoming white noise.

Rafael texted Nick.  _ Do you want me to come over _ ?  _ I brought bagels _ .

_ I want to see you _ . Nick texted back moments later.  _ Gil and Cynthia left yesterday morning. My house is too quiet. _ Traffic was atrocious but the Uber driver knew some shortcuts and made it to his neighborhood a little after 10. Rafael tipped the driver, dropped his luggage into his house, and walked over to Nick’s. Nick had to be exhausted from the chaos of the precinct and the manhunt; Rafael was going to just drop the bagels off and go back to his place. He knocked on the door.

After a moment, Nick opened the door, apparently fresh out of the shower, hair still wet and curling against his forehead, a towel wrapped tightly around his hips, and nothing else. Rafael was practically gaping and Nick chuckled throatily, the sound going straight to his groin.

“Jesus, Nick.” They were dating, no? Rafael was allowed to ogle at the water evaporating off Nick’s skin, accenting his muscles-- fucking Christ, he’s too hot.

“I knew you were the only one coming over at this hour,” Nick pulled Rafael in. “Sorry, I couldn’t pick you up.”

“It’s fine. Man I probably should have waited to give you these then,” Rafael made a showing of him putting the bag into Nick’s fridge.

“No, you came right on time.” With that, Nick spun Rafael around and kissed him, pressing him against the fridge and slotting his knee between Rafael’s legs. Rafael had never gotten so hard so fast, blood coursing at mach speed from his brain to his dick as he got lost in the scent of Nick’s bodywash and the faint taste of mint in his mouth.

“Oh fuck,” Rafael breathed when they parted. “I bet I taste like cheap bourbon and recycled air.”

“Mmmm, don’t care.” Nick nosed Rafael’s cheek, kissing him, peeling away his jacket and helping Rafael toe off his shoes. “You’re spending the night.” He sounded so resolute and confident that Rafael didn’t even think to protest. He followed Nick down the hall and into his bedroom. Nick apparently made his bed everyday, and actually put his clothes away like a functioning adult. The only thing of remote interest was a small bookcase against the wall packed with threadbare novels. A side table with a lamp on was the only source of light, casting Nick’s slick skin in a dull golden glow. He looked good enough to eat up; Rafael leaving sloppy kisses along Nick’s neck, nipping at the junction of the neck and shoulder, letting Nick chase his mouth as they tried to undress Rafael.

His pants were almost unbuckled when he was made aware of his body and almost recoiled. Sobering, he pulled away for a second. “Wow,” he croaked when Nick pulled away to take a breath. “I don’t think this is how you say ‘Welcome back, how was your trip’ or ‘what did you do in New York’?”

“Yeah it is,” Nick pulled Rafael closer, his biceps flexing and Rafael’s brain fried at the sight. “That’s how the French say it.”

“I’ve been to France, they don’t say that,” he laughed weakly when he was shirtless, aware that Nick was staring at his chest and his erection bulging in his jeans. An open, lopsided grin split Nick’s face apart.

“What?” Nick saw him naked that one time but maybe he was just being polite and when is the Sergeant going to realize that his perceived image of Rafael was grossly romanticized?

“You,” Nick’s voice was dark, sensual. “Have no idea, how fucking gorgeous you look.” He sounded so serious that it made a giggle escape Rafael’s throat.

“Really? I’ve always thought I’ve let myself go.”

“You’re hotter than I imagined,” a large hand trailed down Rafael’s chest, causing him to shiver. In the same motion, Nick slowly unbuttoned Rafael’s jeans, all the while guiding him to lie on top. Nestled into the pillows, muscle and sinew stretching underneath his skin, and the knot of his bath towel loosening more and more by the second, Nick couldn’t have looked more fuckable if he tried. Was he trying right now? Rafael cupped Nick through the towel, outlining the shape of his cock. Nick groaned, stretching to allow Rafael more access.

“You really want me to fuck you, huh?” That breathless confession played on a loop in the back of Rafael’s mind, so much so that he swore it was a dream. But Nick nodded, almost slack-jawed and pupils dilated with lust as Rafael peeled the towel away, exposing the Sergeant, half-hard and foreskin pulled back and the head of his cock resting against his thigh. Now Nick, fully naked, Rafael pushed his jeans and briefs down, and even as Nick was wide-eyed at the sight of Rafael’s cock (“you’re so huge, damn, Raf, how is all of that going to fit inside of me?”) all Rafael could think of was  _ I was just on a plane two hours ago what the fuck _ .

“But I,” realization hit him. “You said you wanted bagels, not condoms. I didn’t bring condoms.” Laughing, Nick reached over to the side table and pulled open a drawer, fished out a small box of condoms and a well-used tube of lube. Rafael tried not to think of Nick having a sex life, but he couldn’t help but wonder.

Nick noticed Rafael’s stare. “Gil hit puberty so I had to give him the birds and the bees talk,” he explained.

“Not to sound rude but please don’t mention your children and condoms when I’m about to be inside you,” Nick flushed and laughed nervously, ripping open the foil of one condom and slipping the greased latex onto Rafael with all the practiced ease of a man who has done this before.

“Is that comfortable?” Nick asked softly. Rafael bit back a groan when Nick touched him there.

“It’s snug.” Was all he could say.

“You’re so goddamn thick, Papi, just how are you going to fit inside of me?”

“I’m not going to last with you saying that,” Rafael whined. He reached down between Nick’s spread legs, fingers slick with lube, and slowly slicked a finger inside. He was surprised to not be met with as much resistance.

“Unless I’m mistaken,” Rafael struggled to remain calm when Nick sucked in a breath as he tried to spread his legs wider. “You’re not as tight as I thought you would be?”

Nick flushed again, biting his lower lip. “I uh, to unwind from today I…”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Rafael was not going make it past a minute if he now had images in his head of Nick in the shower, fucking himself on a-- “you used a toy?”

“A small one.” Nick’s breath hitched when the second finger crooked upward. “More, Raf.” Oh God, Rafael was going to die, right here, bathed in lamplight and two knuckles deep inside Nick, some cosmic force was going to vaporize him to dust. He slicked with lube and situated himself between Nick’s legs, propping his bad knee over his hips. He slowly thrust in, mesmerized by the way Nick arched into the pillows and his eyelids fluttered at the sensation. He let out a shaky breath, chuckling breathlessly when he realized Rafael was halfway inside of him.

“Are you okay?” Rafael asked. “Is this too much, should I stop?”

“No, just give me a minute. This is really happening. Just one small step for man, one giant leap for Nick Amaro, y’know?” At that crack, Rafael laughed, well aware that Nick felt that, and gave slow experimental thrusts. Nick was a moaning mess, dirty Spanish tumbled from his lips that sounded like music to Rafael’s ears. He planted his lips on Nick’s neck and collarbone, feeling the vibration of his voice through his skin, sucking and nipping hard enough to leave marks.

“Raf, oh God Raf,” Nick clung onto him, egging him to go faster. Rafael made a particularly deep thrust, where he was buried to the hilt, and Nick made a noise that Rafael had only heard in porn. “Please, wreck me.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” Rafael grunted, a new-found vigor coursed through his body. Testing the limits of Nick’s flexibility, he practically folded the Sergeant in half as he fucked with abandon, watching his dick slap his stomach, his muscles bunching at the angle.

“Oh Christ, you’re splitting me in half,” Nick sounded delirious, he was practically shouting. “I’m going to be in interrogation with a murderer and I’m not gonna be able to sit tomorrow.” The headboard rattled and the lamp flickered. Rafael mistook it for him just fucking Nick into oblivion. But one particular thrust, pushed a moan out of Nick, whose hand curled tighter into Rafael’s hair and the lamp shut off, encasing them in darkness. Was the lamp just plugged into a bad outlet? Rafael thrust hard again, the bed creaked, and the lamp illuminated once more.

“What the--” Rafael stopped and Nick’s face was scrunched up with laughter, shaking them both.

“Is this a _clap-on_ _light_?” Rafael just looked at Nick who was nearly crying with laughter. “You sleep with a clap-on light?”

“It was a gift!” Nick tried to explain through laughs. Rafael sealed his mouth over his, kissing the laughter away. Lamp on, he rolled them until Nick’s head was hanging off the side of the bed. Thrusting back in, he wrapped a hand around Nick’s dick, teasing the head and tugging haphazardly. Nick cried out and within moments, was arching off the bed as he came, semen caught in his chest hair and on Rafael’s hand. The sight of Nick in the throes of ecstasy had Rafael humping desperately into Nick, coming with an undignified groan into him. It took a moment for him to remember how his muscles worked and which ones to move so he could roll off and go through the sobering motions of taking off the condom, tying it and throwing it in the trash.

Nick laid across the bed, trying to catch his breath. He remained almost sliding off the mattress even after Rafael reached over to grab the towel and wipe them off. Rafael pulled Nick back onto the bed to rest him onto the pillows, and stretch his leg out. When Nick looked comfortable, Rafael made a move to grab his clothes.

“No, don’t leave,” Nick found himself pleading. “Stay the night.”

“I was just making sure my clothes were in sight,” Rafael assured him. “Don’t want to be searching for them in the morning, now do I?”

“Mmm, come here.” Nick looked so soft and vulnerable in the lamplight, how could Rafael resist? He crawled back into bed and pulled Nick into an embrace, softly kissing him.

“I’m sorry if I was too rough,” he said. “I got caught up in the moment, I should have been gentler for your first time.”

“Did you hear me complain? I needed it. It was… long overdue.” Nick chuckled sleepily. They let their hands roam, fingers tracing scars and healed bullet-wounds, knees bumped into each other as the fatigue washed over them.

“Get some sleep,  _ querido _ . It’s been a long day.” Nick just nodded, his eyelids drooping as he couldn’t fight the exhaustion. He curled up into Rafael’s side, looking so cherubic that Rafael’s heart seized with affection.

Just before he caught himself whispering words of love and desire into Nick’s ear, Rafael clapped and the room was shrouded in darkness. Nick laughed.

  
  


Φ

Gentle light from the window awoke Rafael, and Nick was out of bed and looking for clothes, gnawing on an unsliced bagel.

“Please don’t tell me you’re eating that cold.” Nick just shrugged, mouthful of bagel, casually rummaging through his drawer naked.

“Did we… did we sleep past 3 AM?” Rafael was bewildered, going to check his phone but realized that it was dead.

“I guess we did,” Nick looked at his phone, eyebrows disappearing into his tousled hair. “I don’t think I can squeeze in a quick shower; I’m going to be late for once.”

“I have court at 11, I think I’m okay, but I need to go unpack.” Gathering his bundle, Rafael redressed, remembering his coat was flung on the kitchen floor.

“Don’t think I’m kicking you out or anything.”

“I know, we all have masters we need to report to.” Rafael smirked, dressed, looking as if he didn’t just fulfill his ultimate fantasy last night. Nick was dressing in front of him, looking serious as any cop could, but there’s no hiding the marks on his neck that deepened in the night. Nick didn’t seem to care as he tucked his shirt in and put on his holster. He caught Rafael looking at him and he smiled softly, finishing his bagel.

“I’m going to do my walk of shame,” Rafael let Nick walk over and kiss him.

“In order for it to be a walk of shame you would need to feel ashamed.” Nick smiled, almost not wanting to leave, but man he was pushing it. They walked out the garage, Rafael striding with confidence back to his house, waving as Nick drove away.

Φ

Detective Cristina Kimura prided herself in being one of the earliest to the precinct, only being beaten by the desk Sergeant and her partner Nick Amaro. Sometimes Alvarez or even Lieutenant Jackson would be here before her, but Nick usually was here the earliest, as if he practically slept at the precinct. Imagine her surprise, her partner wasn’t at his desk, or even in the Lieutenant’s office, as he wanted to check in with their boss before the daily briefings. Reyes was here, along with Officer Greene, and those two had spotty attendance records.

“What? Is hell freezing over?” Kimura asked. “You got here before me? And Amaro?”

“I felt like committing to my New Year’s Resolution,” Reyes shrugged, balling up the wrapper of a breakfast burrito and throwing it at the trashcan but missing.

“Maybe the Sergeant is arriving fifteen minutes late with some Starbucks.” Greene suggested.

“No, Sarge drinks water or black coffee like a goddamn Marine,” Kimura was this close to pulling out her phone and calling her partner, when the elevators dinged and Sergeant Amaro arrived, not holding coffee and walking kind of gingerly, almost bow-legged. Kimura was about to gripe and ask how does the Atomic Clock Amaro wind up almost half an hour late, when she noted the poorly-hidden marks on his necks and the way he avoided leaning his weight onto his left leg, his hair more tousled than usual. 

“Sorry for being late,” he said. “Slept in.”

“Oh, looks like the Sarge got some action,” Reyes was about to make a racket, but Amaro just stared at him and Reyes kept his mouth shut.

“Seriously, Sarge, you look like you almost got fucked to death.”

Amaro looked at the officers for a long while, almost to the point where it was uncomfortable. Until he smiled softly, a satisfied grin lazily splitting his face.

“You should see the other guy.” He said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> he has a clap-on lamp; so every time I rammed into him the lights kept turning on and off.
> 
> I just felt like I rushed through this thing (I know I did) and I'm asexual and aromantic so I don't know how love works and I don't understand sex at all so what in God's green earth did I just plunk out.
> 
> one more small chapter after this aghh!!!!


End file.
